No Want, No Hunger, No Shame
by Cayenne Pepper Powder
Summary: AU VM, WM In a time when darkness is feared, Meryl Stryfe's unusual occupation thrives and leads her to a man she should hate, one that is not at all who he is supposed to be...
1. Prologue

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame 

**A/N Edit: **Hello! This is my third Trigun fic, and it's off to a far better start than my other one...

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Read on!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Trigun and I never will...((sigh))

--

Prologue

--

_Taken from the book published by Jonathan Wright, original author of "A Guide to Vampires: The Profession."_

They are everywhere. You cannot evade them anymore than you can your own shadow. They will find you no matter what you do. Eventually, you all will die, and this book will be of no use any more. Use it well before the wheel has turned and time had run out.

They are everywhere; your best friend may be the cause of your own demise. They hide in the dark, but half bloods may walk in the light of day. Their hunger for blood is overpowering, they cannot control their own cravings. They yearn for power, total dominance. Us mortals are mere objects, blocking them from their ultimate goal. They want nothing more than to exterminated the entire human race. We are nothing to them

They are everywhere, on your street, in your town, maybe even your neighbor. They disguise themselves as humans, as though being a mortal would give them better access to our blood. They suck the life from you; make you their own once you have fallen into the dark mists of death.

They continue creating their own as rabbit's breed. Soon, I predict in the next ten years, the human race will all but be gone. There is nothing one can do to stop them. Even a group would fair no better; we are no match for them.

They are everywhere, but can be found no more easily than you can see in the dark. They prefer not to reveal themselves, they prefer to get to know you before striking, taking your life. You cannot trust anyone; the world is no more safe than the woods at night. You can be slain by their kind just as the mountain lion and wolves consider you their prey.

They are everywhere, but that does not mean that you cannot delay them, that does not mean you cannot kill them. Eliminate the living dead. However, you can only slay them as easily as you can out-run a bear. You must know their weaknesses, determine their strengths and outsmart, overpower and outwit them.

They are everywhere, and to defeat them you must know them. More clever than their own, and more shrewd than the devil himself. Witty and brave, confident and prepared. Humans find it difficult to destroy them, for they look so much like on of their own. You cannot be deceived; they have no mercy, feelings, and no sense of justice. They kill for pleasure, with no real purpose.

They are everywhere; they are the spawn of night. They feed on fear; thrive on the need to dominate. They gain power from hate, pain and illness. They despise love, cannot handle feelings, for they have none. Even the half bloods have trouble accepting anything else other than hate. They hate, hate you, me and every mortal who walks the earth.

They are everywhere. Their blood cannot sustain their own lives, so they must take from others. They are genetically defective; their need for blood is only a side affect of their inability to support their bodies. By biting a mortal, they take the blood and use it for themselves, effectively killing their mortal host and converting them into one of their own.

However, by biting the host and taking the blood, they do not instantly kill the victim. By the amount of blood that was taken, the host may have a varied amount of time to live. Eventually the victim will bleed to death, and become one of their own.

Possible ways to prevent the process of changing into one have been devised, however. Though extremely rare, special serums can be found to reverse the effect of the bite. The serum, used properly will return the human to its normal state, albeit after much pain.

They are everywhere. Remember you cannot escape them. It is best to face them, to show them you are not afraid. There are only two ways to slay one, though. A wooden stake must be used to pierce through the heart, or you must smoothly remove their head. Any other way is ineffective and will not mortally wound or permanently damage them.

They are everywhere. You cannot hide from them, so do not try. Being secretive attracts attention, which is not necessary. They are very observant, and rarely miss anything. Half bloods are most like us mortals, and very many prefer the day rather than the night. Depending on their blood, they may or may not be capable of staying out long or standing in direct sunlight.

They are everywhere, pure bloods and half bloods alike. They walk the earth for eternity unless they are set free from their eternal suffering. Never before has one been released to once again live a mortal life, to die another day. It is said it cannot be done, and never has their been a probable solution suggested of a way to succeed.

There are myths, but never being tested, humans do not know the possible outcome. Possibly, however, a somewhat reasonable way has been proposed several times. It is said that a man once devised a serum that would change the genetic construction of a pure or half bloods system. The process said to be painful, but the result was a mortal, with a stable system and no hunger for blood.

Remember, they are everywhere. You cannot evade a vampire any more than you can your own shadow. In light or day, they will find you…

--

A/N: There you go, your prologue, which I hope gives you some idea to what this fic will be about. I'm very sorry, and I know it's boring and annoying to read, but it is necessary to have some information before I post the first chapter!

By the way, Jonathan Wright is a fictional character whose name was created randomly, just off the top of my head, so if your name (in some, strange twist of fate) happens to be Jonathan Wright, just remember I don't mean to offend in any way!

Oh, yes, one more thing. I have written out someof the chapters to the story and will post only one once a week. No exceptions I have a busy schedule!

Thanks for your understanding ;)

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	2. Meetings in the Dark

No want, No Hunger, No Shame

**A/N:** Cayenne Pepper Powder here!

Anyway, if you survived my BORING Prologue, you should be happy with this chapter, my friends. So, without any further rambling from myself, I will start!

Oh, wait, just in case you didn't already know…this will eventually be a Vash/Meryl!

_dialogue _– **thoughts**

"dialogue" – **speaking**

**--**

**Chapter 1:**

**--**

1865 London, England

It was dark out, rain drizzled through the cobblestone streets cloaked in black and ran down the gutters nailed to the buildings. The rain dribbled down the walls, patted on the stones and trickled in small streams down to the sewers. The buildings were dark. Black against the smoggy grey sky. The clouds were low tonight, giving London an ominous smell, trapping the stench of death and the fumes of blood.

London was the metropolis these days. A metropolis for vampires, the feeding ground for the bloodsuckers, and a haven for vampire hunters.

Not many people went out at night. It was too dangerous.

As if it wasn't at day too.

Vampires were everywhere, so it was best to stay in large crowds. But even then you never knew if the person standing next to you was a vampire, just waiting suck your blood.

London was definitely not a place to be for the faint of heart, and certainly it was not a place to be at night. Never when it was raining, not when there was so little visibility.

There was, however, someone out. Not a vampire either.

A woman.

A mortal soul creeping through the streets, not making a sound. Seen by only the sharpest eyes, the woman slunk through the rain, careful not to disturb a pebble, not a stone. Not at this time of night, nobody would be up to help her if the need came. It was not as though they would even if they knew. People were too selfish, not caring for anyone but themselves.

Quietly, she made her way down the road, even the street lights were out tonight. A sure sign that vampires were on a prowl. But she had somewhere she was heading, somewhere she intended to go. No vampire was going to stop her, not tonight. Hell, not any night!

She slipped around a corner, making sure not to make a sound, but had the unfortunate luck of snagging her cloak on a loose stone protruding from the building. She was stopped as the material held tight to the wall.

Turning around silently, she took the piece and pulled it swiftly from the snag. She was rewarded by a loud rip as the dark material tore and left behind a small corner on the wall.

Staring at the edge of her torn cloak, she was not aware of the sudden movement of eyes being fixated on her dark form. Swallowing slightly, she forced herself to look for any sign that someone or something had heard. Backing into the shadows, she steadied her breathing and counted as the minutes ticked by.

_Maybe it was a mistake to come out so late. Nicholas should have set a better time, I can't be wondering around at night like this! _Her mind raced, but as one………two………three minutes ticked by, no sound was heard and she slowly emerged from the shadows and continued on her way.

Unnoticed was the tall form that gently plucked the piece of cloth from the sharp stone and vanished once again into the darkness, watching the small figure like a hawk.

Quickly, and more carefully than before, the woman resumed her route and rounded another corner, where the darkness was blinding and the silence deafening. Even the trickling of water, the quick patter of rain was not heard.

Her footfalls were light, but seemed clumsy in her own eyes. It was ominous, and the feeling that she was being watched suddenly enveloped her more efficiently than her cloak. Slowly, the hairs on her neck rose and stood on end, triggering a slight shiver to flow down her back.

She hurried her pace and strained in the darkness to see something. The only light was that of the dark clouds hovering above her, and the dank mist that flowed like water down the narrow street.

Without a trace, the tall figure followed, the cloth held tightly in its hand.

The woman pawed at the small knife hidden beneath her cloak. She was positive something was following her, and it was making a good job of staying hidden.

She slipped the knife from her cloak and pulled it from its sheath.

_Next time Nicholas insists on seeing me, I will bring my derringers, _She thought, _But for now I'll have tomake do with a blade._

Slowing her pace somewhat, she held the knife ready in her hand. Still keeping silent, she waited and continued on her way. If this thing wasn't going to attack her, she had no reason to harm it.

But if it was a vampire, that was a whole different story

Swiftly, the form following the woman increased its pace, keeping quiet and stealthy. It watched and waited.

The woman hesitated when the feeling of being watched left her abruptly and she was left in the company of her small knife. Blinking slightly, she slowed to a stop and turned around, her cloak swaying lazily in the thick, damp air.

Nothing was visible through the mist, and not a sound betraying any hidden presence was heard.

She loosened the grip on her knife somewhat and was about to turn and continue on her way when something roughly wound an arm around her neck and pulled her up off her feet.

Gasping loudly as she was lifted up, an ominous hiss immediately silenced her and she realized then exactly what has been following her. An impenetrable anger suddenly flared up inside of her and she tightened the grip on her knife and thrust it backwards into the vampire's chest. A gasp was heard and she was abruptly dropped from her position in the air.

Landing unsteadily, she whirled around to face her attacker, who was clutching its middle in pain. She stood with feet frozen and knife held loosely before her. The figure swayed slightly before righting itself and revealing its immense height.

At least six feet tall!

Gaping at the vampire, the woman could all but take in its appearance, her feet still not willing to move.

It was definitely a man, whose face was partially shadowed by a hood, but eyes clearly shining out from underneath. Indeed, he was wearing a long cloak, black with the hood, but by his collar was clearly visible some red material, which also hung out from the cloak by his feet. Black boots donned the vampire's feet, and black gloves pulled over his hands.

Truly he was formidable, but what really startled the woman were his eyes. They were bright, very unlike all the vampires she had encountered before, who had dead eyes. No, his eyes were bright sea green, shining still in the dim light, and they held pain, some eternal pain she had never noticed in other vampires.

Slowly, the vampire staggered to his right, still clutching his side, as if in some great pain. The woman growled defiantly. Vampires felt no pain! This one was surely a very good actor.

She tightened her fingers around the knife and watched indifferently as the vampire fell slowly to his knees. Then, she stared in complete horror as he removed his hand from his stomach and revealed blood, blood that immediately began to flow down his cloak.

The woman was suddenly unsure. Vampires did not bleed freely, only mortals. Could this man be a human? Uncertainly, she approached the man and lowered her knife, thought still keeping a firm grip on it.

She came to stand before the man, whom had his head bowed. And without raising it, he grasped his stomach and hissed most inhumanly.

"Stay away!" she could hear the effort from speaking clear in his voice.

The woman was even more disorientated by this. If he was a human he would want help. If he was a vampire he would welcome her presence as another opportunity to take her life. So, instead of confusing herself further, she stepped back a few steps.

"What are you?" she asked uncertainly.

Coughing slightly, the man replied, "A vampire." He said it clearly, as if to try and scare her off, "Stay away..."

She stared wide-eyed at the man/vampire before taking several steps away and circling around the man to continue on her way. If he wanted her to stay way, it was fine with her, it wasn't like she wanted him to suck her blood.

Not looking back, she broke into a run down the dark street, leaving the bleeding vampire to his own problems. No longer caring if she made too much noise, she sprinted with the knife still held firmly in her hand.

She had somewhere to be and one interruption was one too many.

Rounding several more corners and breaking free of the dank street and into the rain, she came to a halt in front of a large oaken door. Slowly, she sheathed her blade and knocked once on the door.

Immediately, the door was flung open and she was grabbed inside before being enveloped in a bone-crushing hug.

"Sempai, you made it!" The happy voice if Milly Thompson exclaimed excitedly before setting the small woman down.

Brushing herself off, Meryl unfastened her cloak from around her neck, "Barely." She mumbled lightly before hanging it in a hook to dry.

Milly blinked, "What was that, Sempai?" she questioned.

"Ah, nothing, Milly." She plastered a smile on her face, preferring to explain why she was late only once, meaning Wolfwood would be there, "Where is Wolfwood?" she asked her friend as she removed her last boot.

Milly smiled, "He is sitting by the fire, waiting for you." She left the small room and led Meryl.

Realizing she hadn't been to Wolfwood's house for a while, Meryl once again took in its warm splendour. The walls were of wood, worn to a warm shade and donned with many paintings. Nick was a collector of various artworks, and had a respectable collection. The floor was lined with a thick woven rug, which fell all the way down the hallway to end at the entrance to the living room.

The two women entered the living room and were greeted by the welcoming heat of a fire crackling merrily in the fireplace. In his favourite chair, place just to the right of the fireplace in the large room, was Nicholas Wolfwood, smoking what looked like an extra small cigar.

He turned slightly in his chair as the two women entered, "Took you long enough." He huffed.

Although he was a good friend, Meryl had to admit he could be as arrogant as hell sometimes.

"Well, excuse me. It isn't like I can help being attacked by vampires on my way to a dear friends home." She plopped onto the couch opposite Nicholas and sighed.

Milly sat down beside her friend and frowned slightly, "Sempai, you never told me that!"

"I was waiting for an audience, Milly." Meryl explained sarcastically.

Wolfwood chuckled, "So that's why you were late. Almost had me startin' to worry." He leaned forward in his chair, "So, how'd it go? Did you kill it?"

Milly looked shocked while Meryl frowned, "No…" she hesitated, "Have you ever heard a vampire telling you to stay away?"

Wolfwood shook his head, "Can't say I have. How'd he say it?"

"Well, I stabbed him with my knife before he dropped me." She paused as a slight cringe from Milly, "But he bled…he fell down and he bled…" she rested her elbow on the armrest and propped her head up with her hand.

"He bled, sempai?" Milly asked in confusion, "Vampires don't bleed."

Wolfwood rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "He wasn't no vamp if he bled, short stuff." He looked at Meryl rather warily.

The short woman shook her head, "No, I asked him. I was sure he was a vampire when he attacked me. But he bled…so I asked him…"

"You asked him??" Wolfwood asked incredulously, "I usually don't think to stop and ask someone who just attacked me if he was a vampire or not."

Meryl huffed, "Well I wasn't sure!"

Milly gave Wolfwood a look, "Mr. Priest, if Sempai wasn't sure, I think she did the right thing to ask." She frowned, "What if he hadn't been a vampire?"

Wolfwood sniffed, "Fine."

"Finally." Meryl grumbled.

Wolfwood ignored her, "So, what did he say?"

Milly nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

Meryl frowned, "He said…I'm a vampire…stay away." She paused, "But he looked like he was in so much pain."

"Vampires don't feel no pain, Meryl." Wolfwood advised.

She looked from Milly to the smoking man, "I know, but he even looked like one. He had a big black cloak, and a hood on. He was pale looking, but his eyes were different." Her eyebrows creased, "He had bright eyes, not dead ones like any vampire I've seen."

"Sempai, what did you do?" Milly asked.

Meryl looked up and met Wolfwood's grey eyes, "I ran. Milly. I took his advice and I ran…" She said it as she realized her mistake.

"Meryl, you never leave a vampire alive. That is the first rule of the game." Wolfwood shook his head while Milly lowered her gaze slightly, "He'll come after you soon enough."

Meryl sighed, "But I didn't know if he was actually a vampire, I couldn't kill him and later find out he was a mortal, a human!"

"You'll find out soon enough, Meryl." Wolfwood paused, "But I didn't call you here to listen to some vampire stories."

Milly nodded in confirmation as Meryl snorted.

"Good. I'd like to know what almost got me killed getting here for."

Wolfwood ignored that and stretched slightly, "I think I found out where the serum used to convert a dieing human who has been bitten back to the way they were before."

Milly blinked, "Really Mr. Priest? How?"

He chuckled, "I _am _part of the church, you know. I have my sources."

"Where, Nicholas? Where is it?" Meryl asked hurriedly.

He rolled his eyes, "I said I might, not that I know for sure. Anyways, you aren't going to like it, short stuff."

"I need to know, Nick. My whole career depends on that!"

Wolfwood looked uneasy, but it was true. Meryl was a vampire hunter. But that wasn't her only profession. She could be called a philosopher to some, in search of an unreal elixir that could change the lives of so many people and save the world. To others she was a dreamer, in search of the serum that could give life back to those who were bitten by a vampire. He frowned and twitched his nose.

"I think its up north, in an old castle called Purebrood. It used to be the home of the man who created the serum, but now holds as a base for the vampires and their leader."

Milly piped up, "I never knew there was a leader…" she too was in search of the serum, as a partner of Meryl.

"I don't know his name, but he's a half blood. As ruthless as they can come. He hates humans, wants nothing more than to kill us all. He believes that vamps should rule the planet, never mind us. We are nothing but bumps on his way to total domination. Anyway, he lives with all his minions up in that castle and rules the whole lot of them. Controls their actions, and decides what's to be done. Apparently he has a brother. Twins they are. They disagree with each other's ideas as much as cats chase the mice. The younger one left, hasn't been seen by his brother in two years and doesn't seem to want to show himself any time soon." He paused to let the information sink in.

"The bugger guards the serum, since he can't lay a finger on it without it burnin' his hand off. If you want the serum, you have to get into his castle, avoid the vampires, find the room where he keeps it and find out if it really is real before getting out of there." He sighed and leaned back in his chair, " I would say it's impossible."

Meryl stayed silent for a moment, "Nick, nothing is impossible. Its just very unlikely we would make it out alive if we tried it."

Wolfwood shook his head, "Who's the _we_?"

"Me and you, and if Milly would come too."

He all but laughed, "I might be a little odd, short stuff, but I sure as hell ain't mad! There is no _me_ in 'we'."

--

A/N: That was a lot longer than I expected. But I hope you liked it :)

Oh, yeah, I don't know any real places in London, so if you live there of something and you have no idea where some places that I am going to make up are…they aren't real!

That's all, folks!

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	3. Dreams in the Night

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame

**A/N:** Oi! I had no idea you guys would like my story so much! I'll try to get two chapters out each week, then, but it's not for sure.

Thank you!

_dialogue _– **thoughts**

"dialogue" – **speaking**

**--**

**Chapter 2:**

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In the dimness of his small room, a single man sat on his inn bed wrapping a round of white cloth firmly about his middle. A first aid kit was opened on the bed beside him with the contents spilt along the bloodstained covers.

A deep stab wound showed in his skin. He had gotten it earlier that very night.

He wrapped the bandage around the wound, but as soon as the cloth settled, red flowed through without effort. Sighing, he once again fastened the cloth another time around him in an effort to stop the bleeding.

Grimacing in pain, he thought bitterly; this was just another addition to his massive collection of scars…

He folded the ends firmly and took out a fastening pin to keep them together. Making sure it was a firm hold and would not fall apart; he placed the first aid kit on the nightstand beside the bed.

He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, and carefully lay back onto the small, hard bed before falling into a deep sleep as soon as his head had settled on the firm pillow.

This man—actually a vampire—was known as Vash Saverem. Twin to the leader of all the vampires, he was the very equal to his brother in many ways.

However, vampires did not bleed freely, and certainly not by the hand of a mortal. He found he had never been able to block the pain and blood whenever he was wounded. His brother had declared that only his love for humans made him weak.

Not being able to channel the fear and hate from mortals, he could not become as powerful as his brother, Knives. He could not become as powerful as any vampire he encountered. But he had no wish to become so mighty, and preferred the company of the humans.

His love could not be stopped. He remembered loving since he was a small child, born a halfling by the blood of his mortal mother; Rem. Never had his father—now dead—been able to stop his love for all living things.

He was most unlike a vampire, more like a mortal. He would have been an outcast if it were not for his father's name in his blood, his brother's fierce opposition to the human rule.

Like all vampires, even half bloods, he had to drink blood. In order to survive, he had to take the life of a human, which disgusted him. But he had no other way of living, and was doomed to stay a vampire until someone would kill him and end his eternal suffering.

Cutting back on the blood he had to have made him weak. His brother had scorned him, so Vash had left, not wishing to come back.

Ever.

Instead, the half-vampire dedicated his wanderings to the prevention of the slaying of humans. Many times he had been seen stopping other vampires from taking a life, and saved many a human. He had proved he did not have to be as powerful as his twin to stop a vampire.

But even with his disgust of human blood, he had to drink. He had to feed in order to survive.

Last night was just one of the times he was not able to control himself and had gotten what he had deserved. But the pains taken by him were all rewarded by the goodness that he had brought into the world.

It was all worth it in the end.

--

_It was dark, very dark. _

_…How had she gotten here? She couldn't remember. One minute she was…_

_…where had she been? All she knew was that she was here now. Here…_

_It was dark and she was running, her cloak flapping wildly, loudly behind her. Running from what? _

_To where?_

_There was no moon, but still she could make out where she was going._

_There were trees in the darkness; she knew they were there. It was just so dark. Silence engulfed her, but her heavy breathing warded it off, the pounding of her heard a deafening thump in her chest. _

_The noise warned the blackness not to come any closer…_

Was there something behind her?

Yes, she could sense it its presence, its feet moving quickly, lightly on the forest floor. A forest. Trees whizzed quickly past her moving form, or were the trees the ones really moving?

No, she was the one running. Running from what? To nowhere? In a place where there was no moon?

_The trees and bushes cleared, thinned into a field. _

_It was so dark. How could she see in this darkness, though? _

_This blackness all around her?_

_The field was neat, the grass was trimmed, short and tough. She looked back into the inky darkness. She could see it jump into the field. Cloaked in black, it was perhaps darker than the night. _

_What was it?_

_She didn't know, but she did know she had to get away…_

_She looked forward._

_Too late. _

_The ground before her let away, leaving nothing but air, nothingness. She screamed as she fell, down into darkness._

_She shut her eyes tight…_

Meryl sat up straight in her bed, breathing heavily, her mouth open and eyes wide. Her scream seemed to echo throughout the room, bouncing back just to mock her. She brought a trembling hand up to her forehead and wiped away some cold sweat that seemed to drench her trembling body.

She looked around the room and recognized it as one of Wolfwood's spares. Sighing in relief, Meryl remembered that Nick has insisted Meryl and Milly stay the night and wait for the light of day.

She had agreed without protest. It was still dangerous in day, but not as ominous as the night. A cold, wet and rainy night nonetheless.

Slowly, Meryl folded her covers back and slipped out of the bed. She wore one of Nick's mothers' old nightshirts, which reached past her knees. Quickly she pulled on a pair of slippers by the foot of the bed to block the cold radiating from the wooden floor. Rubbing sleep out of her eyes with her free hand she opened the door of the spare room and shuffled out on her way to find tea.

The smell of breakfast wafted out of Nicholas's kitchen and into the hallway. Meryl covered her mouth as she yawned and slowly turned the corner into the kitchen. Milly was running around the room with a pot and several cups at once. She was only wearing her nightclothes too, a huge shirt and large, loose pants. What looked like a tray of biscuits was sitting on the stove, steaming.

Or was that smoke?

Shaking her head, Meryl approached her partner and snatched a cup of tea that was already poured, waiting patiently on the counter. She poured some cream in and stirred in a teaspoon of sugar. Then, blowing on it, she shuffled her way towards the wooden table and began to sip the drink.

As if just noticing Meryl's presence, Milly turned and smiled at her friend, "You're up!" she exclaimed happily, "Now you can help me with these biscuits."

Meryl let her head fall onto the table before sighing, "Milly, you didn't have to make breakfast. I was planning to leave as soon as I got up."

"Aren't you going to say good bye to Mr. Priest?" Milly asked.

Wincing, Meryl replied, "No, I'd rather not. I don't think Nick will wake up until noon."

No matter how hard Meryl tried to convince Milly otherwise, she was set on the idea that Wolfwood and herself were cousins. It was probable, if you didn't take into account the rather large height difference, but Meryl denied relation to the smoking priest for various other reasons she never spoke of.

Shrugging slightly, Milly took her steaming/smoking biscuits from their tray and set them on plates before serving one to Meryl. At almost the same moment, Wolfwood, looking as fresh as ever—if you call him "fresh"—strode into the room fully dressed with a cigarette set firmly between his lips.

"Mornin' big girl, cousin." He announced almost as cheerfully at Milly, and nodded curtly to Meryl.

Meryl frowned. Either Wolfwood still believed they were cousins, or he was just trying to annoy her. She chose the latter and figured he had obviously overheard her conversation with Milly.

Milly replied with another happy greeting as Meryl glared at the priest. He sat down at the table with a biscuit and a cup of tea.

Meryl eyed her food warily and observed Wolfwood, who seemed to be indifferent to the smoking of the biscuit and was eating rather noisily. Eyebrows furrowed, she took another sip of her tea before taking a small bite of the breakfast and swallowing it quickly.

The taste resembled something close to chalk. Maybe burnt chalk would be better, if even possible.

She set it down and frowned. Milly's idea of baking was scorching something until it was either burnt or highly toxic. So, instead of finishing the biscuit, she settled for sipping her tea and watching Milly and Wolfwood inhale the breakfast set before them.

As if noting Meryl's discomfort, Milly turned a questioning eye on her, "Sempai, I made a light breakfast because I had a feeling you wouldn't be very hungry this morning."

Meryl smiled slightly, "I'm fine, Milly. Just not awake enough to eat."

The excuse worked on her partner, but Wolfwood grinned toothily at her before excusing himself to get more food. Meryl stood up abruptly, not bothering to finish her tea. She felt as though she had to do something, she just wasn't sure what it was.

"Are you leaving so soon?" Milly asked.

Meryl nodded, "I have something to do…" her eyes drifted to the smoking priest, who stared back at her with an unreadable expression.

Sighing, she left the kitchen and headed back down the hallway to the spare room. Quickly pulling the nightshirt over her head and kicking the slippers off, she pulled on her clothes from last night and peered outside through the window.

It was still grey out, and drizzling slightly.

Frowning again, she quickly made the spare bed and left the room. No sounds came from the kitchen any longer, and that made Meryl wonder if she had ruined the happy morning mood. Shaking her head, she made her way to the door and pulled her boots on. Taking her cloak from the hook, she noticed a slightly ripped edge.

That had been where she had snagged it on the wall. Staring at it for a moment, she was about to swing it over her shoulders when an abrupt voice began to speak in front of her.

It was Wolfwood.

"I'll come with you, short stuff. No point in anyone getting' hurt if it could have been prevented." She noticed he already had his coat on, with the crosses of the church woven on the cuffs.

"Do what you want, Nicholas." She sighed and pulled her cloak over her shoulders, "But shouldn't you stay with Milly?"

He shook his head, "She agrees, Meryl. Anyways, she wants to help me find more information on the serum, since it seems you already have something to do."

Meryl wondered if that was supposed to be an accusation or just a statement, but she didn't decide which, for the next moment Nick flung the door open and she had to follow him outside.

The two wound their way through the narrow cobblestone streets, bumping into only few people, since they were a ways of the main road. Meryl walked with unease as they approached the street she had stabbed the vampire in. She stopped without knowing and stood there staring at the street, now lit with the light rain pattering happily on the stones. It looked anything but ominous.

"Come on, Meryl, I wanted to get a sample of the blood from the vampire to do a test, if it isn't all gone with the rain."

She blinked and started forward again, "I was just wondering why you decided to come along." She searched the street for any sign of blood, "It's a good idea."

Wolfwood grunted, and pulled what looked like a glass tube from his jacket and knelt down carefully by a small pool of blood.

Meryl—despite her profession—still cringed at the sight of blood. She could clearly see a handprint on the stones, printed in blood. She knelt slowly beside Wolfwood and reached her hand out before her, palm up.

"I'd have thought that the rain had washed it away by now." Several drops of rain fell onto her hand, followed quickly by several more.

Wolfwood nodded, "It rained hard last night after you showed up, but vampire's blood is strange stuff." He carefully scooped some of the blood into the tube and lifted it up to eye level, "Do you think that's enough?"

Meryl eyed it. It looked full enough and she nodded.

Wolfwood plugged the top with a cork before handing it to Meryl, "You do the test, you're more experienced at it than I am."

Meryl didn't take it, "I have other things to do. Get Milly to help you, she knows what she is doing."

Shrugging, Wolfwood placed it back inside his coat before standing up. Meryl followed suit. They stood there for a moment before the priest spoke up.

"I'll leave you here, you're experienced enough to handle a vampire in daylight." He turned to go as Meryl nodded in agreement, "I'll have the results to you by tomorrow evening. Maybe I'll stop by for a few minutes." He waved lazily before walking off.

Meryl waved back, even when she knew he couldn't see it. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she looked down the long stretch of narrow street. Then, shrugging to herself and scorning her cowardice, she continued silently down her path.

With nothing else to occupy her mind, she thought of the dream she had had. It was still fresh in her mind.

Many of the times she had had a nightmare, or particularly strange dream, it seemed to lead ultimately to horrific events occurring afterward. Maybe it was a bad omen or something strange like that.

Shaking her head at her paranoia, Meryl exited off the street and resumed thinking midst large crowds of people out for early shopping. She had found her way to a main road. Careful not to bump into anyone, never knowing what kind of people they were, she weaved through the mass.

Suddenly small pricking sensation on the back of her neck alerted her slightly, and she raised a hand to the spot, expecting a stray raindrop trickling down her neckline.

Instead, nothing was found, and she stopped in the crowd for a moment to rub her neck before taking her hand away.

Immediately, Meryl noticed the redness on her hand. Bringing her fingers up to inspect them, she noted it was blood. Maybe it had been a bug, and she had killed it. Wrinkling her nose slightly, she wiped the blood off on her dark cloak, a look of disgust on her face.

She continued through the crowd some ways before the small prickling sensation started up again, but it more like a light tickle.

Meryl stopped abruptly, almost tripping several people and was rewarded with a few nasty remarks. She ignored the rude words and waited for the tingling sensation to fade.

It did not.

Raising her hand once again to the back of her neck, she felt wetness. Slowly, carefully, she took her hand away from her neck and looked at it.

It was smeared with blood.

Her heart sped up slightly as she wiped it off again, and a strange sensation overwhelmed her. It felt as though a thousand small needles were pricking her, but it didn't hurt.

Meryl closed her eyes and continued walking, trying to ignore the feeling. She pulled her cloak up around her neck and walked blindly through the crowd, her heart beating loudly like a drum. And when the feeling did not fade, she opened her eyes again, and they locked on a tall, dark figure moving just up ahead of her.

Blinking in confusion, she noticed he looked strangely familiar. There was red fabric showing out the bottom and the boots the figure wore were black. They were the same ones that the vampire had worn last night.

Meryl watched unblinkingly as he moved off. Her feet started to walk unbidden, following the vampire through the street. She immediately struggled for control and ended up stopping abruptly.

Continuing to stare at the vampire's back, she quickly began to follow him again. The light rain pelting her sped up slightly as she sped through the crowd, turning to a heavy drizzle.

Meryl ignored the rain and the thought that she should probably head inside if the rain was going to start up again. No, she couldn't pass this off. This was too strange of an opportunity to give up.

--

A/N: See my pathetic attempt at a cliffhanger!

I love all feedback, you know((hint hint, wink wink))

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	4. Disappointment in the Crowd

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame

**A/N:** Okay, I've got it all figured out now! Since you all seem to like this fic so much and demand that I update more than once a week, I will. From now on, you'll only have to wait five days to read the next chapter, okay?

_dialogue _– **thoughts**

"dialogue" – **speaking**

**--**

**Chapter 4:**

**--**

Curious was an understatement. She wasn't just curious; she was scared, intrigued and repelled at the same time. This vampire was strange; he was out in broad daylight, unaware of the people around him, blending in perfectly.

Well, perfectly besides the height. He was tall, very tall. So tall his head was above the crowd most of the time.

Meryl let her feet guide her through the crowds; she ignored the rain pelting her. She willingly followed behind at a safe distance. She needed no persuasion to pursue this vampire.

He was strange, different. She could tell…

And his mysteriousness drew her in. And she needed to know more.

Meryl dodged behind a group of ruffled people as the vampire turned and looked behind him. The movement was so sudden; she barely had time to hide herself from his probing eyes.

Waiting for a few moments, she listened to the crowds around her. Gathering up her courage, she peeked out from behind the group of people and caught sight of a head of blonde hair that seemed to stick straight up. It was blurred through the rain, and he was moving quickly away from her.

The vampire.

She scrambled out from behind her cover and followed the head of hair. He was getting farther away, putting more distance between Meryl and himself. It was almost as if he knew someone was following him.

The short woman suddenly had to wonder if he knew someone was following him. What if he did know? What would he do? What if he confronted her? She was as good as dead if he thought he was being threatened.

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she hurried after him, intent on meeting him even if he was a major threat to her life. Meryl flew past people and pushed through tight knit groups that blocked her way. She wiped furiously at the rain blocking her vision and wetting her hair. It was beginning to pour!

Yes, she was gaining on him. He was once again within her sights. All she had to do was keep up with him...!

_BANG_

Meryl collided with another body and was sent hop skipping with her arms flailing oddly off to the side. Struggling to regain her composure and frantic, afraid she had lost the vampire, she almost ignored the person she had run into.

"Hey! Watch where yer goin', little girl!" A grizzled old man with yellow teeth sneered at her as she regained her footing.

Meryl glared at the man, "Watch yourself, old man! Have some respect for those you bump into!" she retorted angrily and stretched onto her tiptoes to see around the crowd.

"Hey, little lady! Yew better have some respect for yer elders!" the man sneered, "Nobody wants no enemies these days."

Meryl ignored the man and cut off any further conversation by darting off into the crowd, rain pelting her like hail.

"Yew come back here and apologize! Girl, git back here!" the man's protests were quickly lost in the din of the mass and furious downpour as Meryl once again set off pushing her way through the people.

But the vampire was nowhere in sight. He was gone, lost in the accumulation of morning shoppers and strollers.

Meryl turned around in circles frantically. How had she lost him? He had been right there! How could she have been so clumsy to lose him? She was a part time vampire hunter and she lost one!

The people continued on around her, indifferent to her strange behaviour. She was not quite right in the head, or she had lost something. There was no point in dwelling on it.

Either way, nobody was willing to help a stranger. Not in these time, not these days. There was too much was at risk by meeting someone new. If you didn't know their middle names, it was best to steer clear of them. No, you could never be too careful around people.

So, Meryl was left to her angered thoughts. She had lost the vampire; it was as simple as that. She stopped her crazy turning and stood still midst the array of people.

_Darn, I was so close, too… _Meryl wrinkled her nose and sighed in displeasure

Pulling her cloak further around her body, Meryl's hand strayed to the back of her neck. She touched the skin gingerly, afraid of what she might find. But it was no longer bleeding. A dry crust had formed over her wound, which seemed unaffected by the rain.

She fingered it uneasily. It felt strange, as though it wasn't a bug bite, but some sort of long, thin gash. Yes, it was. It felt like some sort of pattern…

The thought sent shivers up her spine. This was no bug bite. It was something else. Meryl's eyes narrowed as an unexpected thought occurred to her. It had something to do with that vampire. It had to be!

Abruptly, the thought of heading home seemed better than ever. She no longer wanted to be outside, vulnerable in the crowds, vulnerable in the shadows, vulnerable in the light. The damp air seemed cold, clammy. It was wet from the rain but it seemed to be choking her. It penetrated her cloak; so, she pulled it tighter around herself, up ho her neck to cover the bloody flesh.

Attacks of shivers were sent up her spine, and the hairs on her neck stood on end. Her back tingled strangely, not unlike when she had felt the vampire near her. But this time it was different. It felt more hostile, the feeling almost hurt. It was almost painful.

She became aware of the clip-clop of horses' hooves on the cobblestone street. The sound was mingled with the rain, which had started to let off and settling into a light drizzle again. Turning slightly, she saw the crowds of people parting lazily to let through a carriage pulled by two large, black horses.

Quickly, to avoid attention and a possible confrontation with potentially hostile horses, Meryl pulled back to the side of the cobblestone street and watched with some interest at the carriage approached her, rolling through the path made by the people.

It was black, the same as the horses. Today, black was a shade not all too uncommon. Lords and Ladies preferred the subdued darkness of it. It was something associated with power, money, and riches. The carriage had a trim of silver along the edges, another symbol of wealth.

It was sleek, shiny in the gloomy fog and wet in the rain.

Meryl watched silently as it approached with the driver sitting like a petrified stump at the reins. He wore black, and a hat shaded his face from curious eyes. His skin was rather pale, and he did not move with the sway of the carriage, but instead sat unfazed by the bumpy ride and the rain saturating his suit.

It neared, and Meryl's eyes narrowed slightly as one black drape was pulled slightly back to reveal a pale hand. She stared curiously, although with some hostility with light shivers running in tremors around her body, from her toes up to the crown of her head.

The hand pulled the curtain back more to reveal a face swathed in shadows, the outline only visible.

The face was too dark to see, but the eyes shone with a deadly hate. They glared out and searched the parted crowd mulling around the carriage. They swept over every person and finally settled on Meryl. They pierced her, fixing her with a glare worst than death itself. Ice Blue, chips of ice. It was pure hate.

_Death._

A small voice in her head seemed to itch at her, growing louder and finally breaking through to speak harshly. Meryl listened unwillingly as incoherent sentences lined with hate invaded her mind.

_Death, hate… I hate you…_

_…You will die… Ice, cold, cold, cold, cold ice…blue, be afraid._

_Fear me… die…_

_Hate, death, you will die a horrible death… You will die… Die by my hands._

_See my eyes…see? Death is in my eyes. I will kill you_

_You will die… See my eyes, they are ice, cold ice…_

_Remember the ice when you die… ice, so cold. You see, cold, freeze…_

_Death! Death, death, death, death, death is upon you!_

_You are next, you will die …I hate you… See my eyes? See my eyes? …They are cold ice… Ice…cold ice…_

_…freezing ice…so cold…death…_

Meryl shivered, the words running repeatedly in her head. They were cold. Whispers invading her mind, speaking to her. She gulped the damp air and broke free from the chants of death and ice.

The carriage was past; it was far down the cobblestone streets now. Gone in the thick downpour. The people around her were back to milling around, trying to evade the storm. The murmur of the street was back, mixed with the pitter-patter of the rain. She was the only one standing still, the only one frozen with strange thoughts running through her head.

Yes, suddenly home sounded the best. Away from the events of the day, away from harm, away from the water that soaked her to the bone, chilling her soul.

--

It was dark outside, cold and wet. Rain still fell, albeit more lightly than that afternoon. It pattered against Meryl's bedroom window, ran in rivers down the shutters. At this time of night the streets were deserted, people were safe inside, hiding with the lights on.

Afraid.

They were all afraid of the night. Fear came with night, dread, and despair. Death came with darkness, darkness more than any other time of day.

Vampires were out prowling at this time of night. Stalking their prey, waiting and toying with anyone unfortunate to be caught up in the dark.

The demons fed more at night than any other time of day. The demons killed at night, took away life for a meal, a snack. Demons they were.

Meryl however, was not facing demons outside. The rain fell upon deaf ears, for she was asleep in her bed. Instead, she was dreaming of demons…

_It was dark, very dark. How had she gotten here? _

_She couldn't remember. One minute she was…where had she been? She didn't know. All she knew was that she was here now._

_Here…_

_It was dark and she was running, her cloak flapping frantically behind her. Running from what? To where? _

_There was no moon, but still she could make out where she was going._

_There were trees in the darkness; she knew they were there. It was just so dark. Silence engulfed her, but her heavy breathing warded it off. Warning it not to come any closer._

_Was there something behind her? Yes, she could sense it its presence, its feet moving quickly, lightly on the forest floor. It was following her… _

_A forest. _

_Trees whizzed quickly past her running form, or were they the ones really moving? _

_No, she was the one running. But running from what? To nowhere? In a place where there was no moon?_

_She couldn't remember…_

_The trees and bushes cleared, thinned into a field. It was so dark. How could she see in this darkness, though? This blackness all around her?_

_The field was neat; the grass was trimmed, short and tough. It hurt her bare feet, cut into her skin._

_She looked back into the inky darkness. It jumped into the field. Cloaked in black, it was perhaps darker than the night._

_What was it? _

_It was too dark to see, everything was so dark…wait, what was that?_

_Eyes._

_Eyes in the dark, blue eyes. Blue eyes in the dark. The figure swathed with black had blue eyes._

_Icy blue eyes. Horrible hating blue eyes that were so cold._

_Cold, they made her feel as though she was suddenly plunged into ice. It was so cold, but she needed to run, to get away…!_

_She turned forward… it was too late._

_The ground before her let away, leaving nothing but air. Nothingness before her, all around her._

_She screamed as she fell, down into darkness. Blue eyes surrounded her, narrowed with hate and cruelty. _

_Death…death, pain and sorrow. _

_She shut her eyes tight…willing the sight to go away._

_To leave her alone!_

Meryl shot up in her bed, cold sweat trickling down her back, making her hair stick in matted clumps to her face. A silent scream was in her throat, her mouth open in horror.

She gasped, sucking air back into her strained lungs. Forcing her shaking hands to grip the sheets and wipe the cold sweat from her palms. The darkness around her seemed to press in on her. It was stifling.

It made Meryl aware of the dull ache at the back of her neck. She gulped in her dry throat and loosened one hand to finger the wound that should have been healing.

But it was doing anything but healing.

It bled freely.

She had not thought of it since earlier that day. It had slipped her mind completely when she had arrived back at her house, wet and freezing. She had been too intent on getting herself dry to think of the mark on her neck. She had been thinking about the vampire, the carriage and the cold eyes that had been fixed on her, speaking worlds without words.

Now, she regretted it.

And as Meryl pulled her wet fingers away, she gulped once in fear and quickly shot her other hand out to turn on her bedside lamp. The darkness around her made her uneasy. And ominous tension hung over her like a sword, ready to strike at any moment.

Light filtered the room, sending any unwanted guests out of her imagination. But it did nothing to quell the sickness in the pit of her stomach. Meryl swung her legs over the side of her bed and flew out of the warm covers. She threw open her bedroom door and—still in her nightshirt—ran to the washroom and flicked on the light switch.

Meryl—with one hand to the back of her neck—flung open a cabinet and drew out a hand mirror.

She faced herself in the larger mirror positioned in front of her and stared at her ruffled hair and sleepy expression. But her smoky-grey eyes were wide with something akin to fear, and she brought the mirror to the back of her head and focused on the image reflected in the larger mirror.

The back of her neck was smeared with blood, and she cringed at the running redness. It clotted thickly as if it had just been freshly cut, and now as she stared at it, she could make out a strange design.

Biting her lip, Meryl pulled out a cloth and ran it under the tap. With a growing illness inside of her, she gingerly wiped away the blood and held the smaller mirror up again to study the design.

But it wasn't a design, it was something much more simple. It was a letter, and it was clearly visible in red against her pale skin.

It was the letter 'K'

Outside, midst the rain and darkness, sat two figures. Shrouded in darkness, they were unseen to any human eye. Silently, they watched as the light flickered on in a window up above. The window was barely visible inside the shutters, but the darkness of the street allowed the light to brighten the ground below.

"Has she discovered your mark yet, master?" Golden eyes turned to look intently at the shadow beside them.

Cold, blue eyes turned to focus on the shutters, "Yes, she has had her warning." It smiled slightly, "I doubt the human will know it's meaning, though."

They watched as the light shut off and the cobblestone street was once again blanketed in darkness. Stepping out of the shadows, the two figures began to move away and down the road.

"I want her movements watched. Today was too close for my liking."

"Yes, my lord."

--

A/N: Ooh, what do we have here? Antagonist's…maybe?

Anyhoo, review please! I love your wonderful info! You guys are so great!

Have a happy day

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	5. Alone in the Streets

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame

**A/N: …Okay**, lets just get one thing straight before I begin rambling on about nonsense….

Thank you everyone! I had no idea you guys would like my fic so much, and now I'm afraid I'll screw up and you'll all hate me!Oy…seriously, I love your info, and due the many questions that seem to be coming at me, I'll straighten some things all out right now…

#1 Did Vash bite Meryl?

No, I'll put it quite simply. He did not. In fact, Meryl was not bitten at all by a vampire.

#2 I thought that vampires bit with their teeth.

Er…well, Meryl wasn't _bitten_; I'll leave it at that. It'll a be clear in time…

Okay, so maybe there weren't _that_ many questions, but I felt I had to clear that up.

Thank you!

_dialogue _– **thoughts**

"dialogue" – **speaking**

**--**

**Chapter 4:**

**--**

Meryl was up bright and early the next morning. After spending half the night awake with a cup of tea clutched tightly in her trembling hands, she would have expected to sleep in until at least nine. Such was not her luck, however, and she had tossed and turned most of the first morning hours before grudgingly getting up and hauling herself downstairs into her kitchen.

Her "K", as she now referred to it as, was no longer bleeding. It continued to ache dully and itch every once in a while.

It didn't seem to be healing, though.

But Meryl had more pressing matters on her mind at the moment, such as when she would find enough courage to step out of her home and once again set out to find this mysterious "vampire" that seemed to be haunting her thoughts 24/7.

So, now we could find our vampire hunter perched stiffly on one of her living room chairs with a steaming cup of tea held tightly in both hands. Her face was gaunt, rather haunted. Dark circles framed her dull smoky-grey eyes, which were half hidden under drooping eyelids heavy with needed—but not acquired—sleep. Her dark raven, short hair was unusually messy and sticking up at odd angles. And lastly, she wore a loose, light blue robe and black slippers, a sign that she was not about to be dressed any time soon.

Despite her outward appearance, Meryl's thoughts raced wildly as she stared down at the drink in her hands.

She was scared. No…she was _very_ scared.

No, no, she wasn't just very scared; she was terrified! On her wits end!

She had spent her night imagining noises and seeing shapes lurking in the darkest shadows of her room.

But they weren't of the vampire she seemed to be so curious about. No, she was not seeing her mysterious half-vampire that bled freely like a mortal.

She had been seeing cold, ice blue eyes glaring out at her from the shadows. Her imaginary stalker stared out from the darkness, occasionally moving, disappearing. He never approached her, though. He just waited.

Of course, Meryl was fully aware her overactive imagination was getting much too carried away, and the result left her feeling as though she was insane.

She took a careful sip of the hot liquid and let it warm her cold stomach.

_I have to stop thinking like this, _She mentally berated herself in disgust before taking another gulp.

The tea seemed to comfort her.

_I'm not supposed to be afraid of the shadows like some child huddled in her covers, scared of what might be under her bed. _Meryl pursed her lips thoughtfully and tried to ease her straight posture, _If Nick sees you like this, you'll hear no end of it! Milly would probably even laugh at you!_

Meryl relaxed her shoulders and sighed slightly. Taking another sip of her tea, she felt glad of the warmth that it spread throughout her.

A smile curved her features, and she bit back a yawn, _You're a pathetically self-centred despair junkie, Meryl._

She laughed at her own words and took the last of her tea down in a large gulp, _You're feeble, Stryfe. What kind of vampire hunter sits in their house huddled in a chair like a baby? What kind of hunter are you if you're afraid of a few vampires? Just because they're dangerous doesn't mean they're scary!_

Agreeing with her words, the petite vampire hunter nodded grudgingly to herself and stood up determinedly with an empty teacup clutched tightly in her hand.

_That's right, Stryfe, rise, go forth and conquer. _She raised a fist and set her teeth resolutely. And with that, she strode off to her kitchen with her mask of determination set firmly in place.

She paused in mid-step, _But get dressed first; nobody wants to see you in a bathrobe. And the vampires can wait for a few minutes. I'm sure they won't be happy to see you anyhow!_

Meryl strolled leisurely down thedank street hidden in darkness and covered from the day. The tall buildings around her bent crookedly over as if leering at her in anger. She supposed if anyone else were in her shoes, they would feel quite uncomfortable. But in her case, why should she be?

Well, there was the fact that half-vampires seemed to like dark places more than the ones lit by day. And she couldn't forget Wolfwood's warning, the one she knew to be all too true.

You _never_ let a vampire go. It was against all rules in the book. And if you do—like in her unfortunate case—you're as good as dead.

Then you had to take into consideration that she was a hunter, a person devoted to killing the demons called vampires. She practically made her living off killing the horrible creatures. So back to where she started, she asked herself decisively, why should she be afraid?

She shouldn't.

Meryl continued down the dark alleyway-like street and let her thoughts wander again, but carefully. You never knew when a vampire would strike until you were on the ground with a pair of fangs jammed in your neck. Cringing at her own thoughts, Meryl wrinkled her nose and swept the distractions aside.

The reason she was out was very clear, indeed. She had checked the local newspaper once she had left her house that morning. In the hunter's column, (and yes, there was a column for vampire hunters) she found information on a sighting of several vampires hanging around an old lady's house. Apparently, they had been stalking her for some time until she had written up an advertisement.

Meryl had immediately come, only stopping by at the woman's house in hopes of gaining more information, perhaps on the physical appearances of the bloodsuckers.

She had had no such luck, only a stunned look (the result of Meryl being a woman was in the hunter's trade), a worried glance, and finally, a faint "bonne chance." Apparently, the woman must have moved from France.

The petite woman snorted at that particular recollection. Of course, it would be a surprise to anyone that she was in fact a woman. A woman who made a living killing vampires and didn't seem very dead.

Yet.

Meryl snorted again, but this time in annoyance. That was exactly why she hadn't called up on Milly to help her out with this particular job. Not only did she feel the need to be alone, but also she needed to vent her anger out on something and show that she could do this. By herself, and as a woman.

Besides, she wouldn't want to interrupt anything between Nick and Milly at the moment, as she was sure her friend could have been found at her "cousin's" home.

Pushing her thoughts aside immediately as a faint noise came from behind her, Meryl turned and blinked into the darkness of the street. Was it just her, or was it steadily becoming dimmer with each step that she took? Glancing skyward, she noticed that the sky had once again become cloudy and the tall, shabby buildings seemed to lean inward dangerously. At any moment, Meryl felt herself wary that they might suddenly cave forward and bury her.

She shuddered involuntarily.

Then she caught it. A single, chilling shiver trembled up her spine. That feeling seemed to be haunting her more than usual, lately. It jarred her back to reality as it traveled up into her skull.

Oh, boy, did she know that feeling.

Her hand slipped under her cloak—looking as thought she had merely pulled the covering closer to her body—and grasped one of her derringers for reassurance as another cool shiver crawled up her spine and spread along her shoulders.

There was definitely more than one of them. She could feel it. Their lifeless eyes glaring hungrily at her back.

Meryl smirked secretly to herself. Good, now all she had to do was shoot them and collect their front fangs as proof of her success before gathering her money from the local hunter's guild.

Continuing to walk down the street, she felt their eyes follow her. She could hear their almost completely silent movements and envision them creeping ever so slowly up behind her.

Meryl waited, and grasped the gun tightly in her sweaty, cold hand. They were almost upon her, very close now. They were so near she could almost smell their flesh, their alive but dead flesh and bloody scent.

Grey eyes hardened as the first one came. A slight scuffle was the only sound to betray the sudden movements, but years of trailing from her father had taught her to listen for those small, telltale giveaways.

In one swift movement she whirled around and evaded the blow from the vampire. Her eyes, still not quite adjusted fully to the dark, almost missed the four forms before her. They were covered completely in darkness.

Pulling out her derringer, she swiftly aimed and fired twice before pulling another gun from under her cloak. She stepped back and aimed in another vampire as the tortured screams of the wounded undead filled her ears.

She managed to force them out and averted her eyes from the sizzling mass of vampire on the cobblestone before her. It made her sick, but she had made a promise…

One shadowed bloodsucker hissed lightly as he inhaled a breath, "Damn, the wench has a weapon!"

Meryl's eyes narrowed dangerously, "Silver, bloodsucker." She struggled to get a good aim on the speaker, "Twice as deadly to you, twice as effective for me."

Another hiss emitted was emitted from the vampire, "Watch out, little girl. You're little guns may have gotten one of us, but it doesn't mean you have us all." She could almost see him smirk, "Three against one."

Meryl glared and swiftly pulled another cherished derringer out and aimed with her left hand, "Don't worry, I have plenty to go around." She caught sigh of a movement and reflexively pulled both triggers. Stumbling back and trying to smother the fear welling up in her stomach, she fired both derringers again.

One caught the vampire in the arm but did nothing to stop the attack, and Meryl was sent head over heels into the ground. In an instant, the vampire was on top of her.

Swinging her small gun up, she smacked the man in the jaw before clutching another gun from her cloak and promptly shooting the creature through the chest. The sickening mass of stored blood that erupted from his back was enough to make Meryl gag in horror, but instead she merely pushed the body off and pulled out another two more derringers.

Even though on her back, she aimed at the two remaining figures that were encroaching on her. Two gunshots rang out as she scooted backwards on the cold stones, and another two in a desperate attempt to protect herself. Unfazed, they advanced on her and before she could raise a fresh gun, cold, clammy hands were wrapped around her neck in a vice-like grip.

Her wide eyes met narrowed, cold, lifeless ones and she immediately began to struggle. The vampire's remaining companion stood firmly at his side, watching haughtily as the hands tightened around her neck.

Meryl's grip on her guns loosened somewhat as her lungs began to ache without air in them. She felt her face growing red; the blood seemed to boil in her skull.

The vampire let a low, inhuman growl escape his throat, "I shouldn't even give you the pleasure of dieing quickly. I think I'll strangle you instead, wench." The grip became tighter around her neck and Meryl winced in pain, "I don't even want the blood of a disgusting human like you."

Suffocating was not the most pleasant way to go, that Meryl knew. So, she managed to gather her thoughts together enough to realize that struggling while being suffocated by a homicidal vampire wouldn't be very effective or remotely intelligent. While fighting down the intense pain growing in her chest, Meryl took a firm hold on her gun and struggled to pull them off the ground.

They felt like dead weights pulling her arms down…

But that wouldn't stop her, and she pulled one out from under the vampire's knee long enough to jam it in his chest.

She didn't want to—but she saw the disturbing change in the vampire's expression before she pulled the trigger. His eyes—just for a moment—seemed to hold genuine, human, lifelike surprise before they almost instantly began to cloud over in death. Real death. His face distorted with pain and an angry gurgle escaped his throat.

Meryl shoved the body off, not waiting for the life to seep out of the vampire before taking aim and taking down her last target.

Then, crawling back onto her feet shakily, she starred down at the squirming vampire, the one who had attempted to strangle her to death. He sizzled as the silver began to take effect.

She hated this.

She wanted to puke, badly.

But her pride wouldn't let her, and she knelt reluctantly down beside the vampire. She stared down at him, and was slightly shocked when he returned her gaze. He wasn't even dead yet.

"Y-you…you're marked," he managed to get out, and a satisfied smirk crossed his lips, "You're…y-you're mark-marked b-by…h-him. N-now I-I am satisfied…and I w-will die knowing y-you're time is a-almost up."

Meryl stared down at the vampire with a mixture of complete surprise and utter confusion, "…What?"

The vampires coughed, managing a sneer, and she watched in horror as his face seemed to melt away into ash, "S-see you in h-hell, bitch…"

He seemed to evaporate, and all that was left of him were clothes, a pile of ashes and his two front fangs. She gathered them up in her hands and stood up silently. Then, while backing away and surveying the piles of clothes that littered the dank cobblestone streets, she sighed.

"If I was a person of the church, I would say the last rites." Meryl stated sombrely, felling strangely empty and very ill, "But I'm not sure if you deserve them."

And with that, she collected her discarded guns and vampire teeth.

Then she ran, and ran fast.

--

It had already begun to rain before she reached her home after gathering her well-deserved money from a successful, albeit disturbing hunt. She reached her house only to see Wolfwood sitting rather miserably on her front steps, soaked and muttering the very curses people of the Church were meant to frown down upon.

"Took you long enough, shorty. Where the hell have you been??" the smoking priest stood up as he saw her approach her house.

Meryl, having absolutely no intention of retelling the confusing information she had gained from the vampires she had put to rest earlier, shook her head, "None of your business, Nick." She pulled out a key to the locked door, "Have you got the results on that blood sample?"

Nick had snatched the key from her hand and had entered Meryl's house before the petite woman could even make it up the front steps. She closed the door behind her and pulled off her wet cloak, being careful to keep her earnings concealed in her pocket.

"I should lock you out of your own house for makin' me wait in the rain like that." Wolfwood shrugged off his jacket and kicked off his boots before patting himself down in search of cigarettes.

He found some and gratefully lit one between his lips, "I sat out there for a good half an hour waiting for you're butt. You could 'ave told me you were goin' out!"

Meryl's eyes narrowed and she pushed Nick out of her front hallway and into the living room. She flopped down on her sofa and stared him down, "No, you should have told me yesterday that you were coming so early. I would have been here otherwise."

The response was a long stream of smoke puffed in her direction.

Meryl waited a few seconds for an answer to her earlier question, but when the shaggy priest seemed quite intent on draping himself on her chair and ignoring her questions, she repeated herself.

"I hope you and Milly weren't fooling around the whole time and not working on getting me some results." She smirked at him and raised an eyebrow at him, "I don't have all the time in the world, Nick, and you two had a whole day."

Wolfwood, who now looked only slightly uncomfortable, grumbled to himself for a moment before answering Meryl's question.

"Yes, Miss I-like-to-rat-at-my-friends-cause-I-like-to-see-them-squirm, I have the results from you're incredibly important blood test, so quit bitchin' 'bout it." He stuck the crooked cigarette between his lips and corrected his position on Meryl's chair until he was facing her directly.

Meryl waited expectantly, frowning slightly but deciding it was best that she not reprimand Wolfwood for his crude speech patterns. That had been the second time she had been called a "bitch" in one day. Frowning, slightly, she shook her head. She just hoped he didn't talk like that at church.

With cigarette securely in his mouth, he began to speak—without the cigarette falling from his lips, may I add—and Meryl hung on his words like a child being told the end of an exciting fairy tale, "Anyway, it took Milly a few tries, but she finally got the results." The priest shook his head, "That blood sure is strange, short stuff. It ain't vampire's blood, that's for sure, but it ain't totally human, either."

Meryl frowned, "You mean it's neither?"

Nodding, Wolfwood added, "Sounds like one of those more human than vampire types. You know, the kinds that try to refuse blood from their systems. Of course, it doesn't always work." He paused, and then seeing Meryl's questioning look, continued, "They've usually been disbanded from their kind because they hate the sight blood. They try refusing to drink it, but their want and hunger won't allow it. But I've never heard of one having only half vampire blood."

Meryl's eyebrows rose slightly, "You mean he's a half-demon?"

"Never heard them called half-demon's before, Meryl. I prefer the term, half-blood." His nose twitched, "Anyway, back to what I was sayin'"

He inhaled from his bent cigarette and paused to collect his words, "Most of them end up dyin'. Their bodies get too weak to continue giving them the half-life they need to survive. But of course, they sometimes can't control themselves and end up feeding anyway. It causes most of them insufferable shame." He looked at her thoughtfully, "Maybe that's what happened to you."

Meryl blinked slightly and stared at the seemingly dazed priest. _Yes, maybe the one that attacked me was a half-demon. That would explain why he hasn't come after me yet. _Her eyes narrowed, _Then, all the more reason for me to find him…_

_--_

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	6. Start in the Morning

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame

_dialogue _–** thoughts**

"dialogue" – **speaking **

**--**

**Chapter 5:**

**--**

"I'm afraid I just don't understand, sempai." Milly's soft voice stated disappointedly. She lowered her eyes somewhat.

Meryl, who sat across from her friend and partner, sighed loudly for the fifth time that minute, "Milly, I need your help." She said frankly, getting straight to the point.

Milly almost instantly brightened up, and flipped a wet strand of brown hair away from her face before she replied happily, "Oh, okay! I can help you, sempai, but what with?"

Meryl sighed in frustration and took in a deep breath. She had been trying to explain what she wanted from her friend for the past five minutes and only now had they finally gotten somewhere, only to end up at the very beginning again.

The taller woman had arrived just over ten minutes ago, sopping wet with a huge smile on her face. It had been raining outside again, but that hadn't barred Milly from seeing her friend after Nick had told her—only reluctantly—that Meryl wished for her to stop by.

The two women sat in Meryl's confined kitchen at Meryl's small table drinking hot tea, which as of late wasn't an uncommon sight. It seemed to soothe the two friends and ward off the chilly dampness that had engulfed London of late.

Meryl stood up from her seat and set her tea down on the nearby table. Then, frowning slightly in thought, as she knew this would in all probability both upset and disturb Milly, she wondered how to tell her friend. How were you to ask a particularly sensitive person that you wanted—no, _needed_ her to help you find a potentially dangerous half-blood vampire because you just happen to have a peculiar feeling that he is somehow connected to the mark on the back of your neck and the bitter eyes you keep seeing wherever you go? The very eyes that tell without a voice that you're going to die and speak of infinite affliction while you sleep? How were you supposed to ask for help without sounding completely insane?

_Well, maybe I'm _already_ insane…_ Meryl thought sardonically to herself, a smile forming on her lips.

Quickly, however, she shook those thoughts from her deadbeat and short-circuiting mind to focus her attention on the matter at hand.

Deciding for the completely honest and straightforward way, and hoping her partner would not become hysterical, Meryl stood opposite her friend and motioned the woman to stand up.

Milly did so without question, albeit with an odd enquiring look, and when Meryl turned her back to her and tilted her head down so her friend could see the unhealed, engraved "K" on her neck, she let out a slight, sharp gasp.

"What is it, sempai??" came Milly's expected question.

Meryl kept her back to her partner so she could get a good look at it, "What do you think it is, Milly?" she replied in exasperation, secretly glad her friend seemed to be taking it so well.

There was a short silence before a soft response, "It's a K, sempai."

Meryl nodded her head in affirmation before turning to face Milly, "Exactly." She waited for any further statements from Milly, or perhaps another question.

Milly tilted her head to one side, "But I don't understand what this has to do with you needing my help…" she trailed off before her eyes widened and she stared at Meryl in disbelief.

"Sempai! Did you call me hear to tell me you have a problem?"

Meryl nodded vaguely, thinking maybe Milly realized what was happening, and replied with a smile, "Yes, I need your help, remember?"

"You have come to me earlier, sempai!" Milly squeaked and suddenly launched herself at Meryl a moment before enveloping her in a huge, bone-crushing hug, "Oh, sempai! We'll get you the best psychiatrist in London!" her friend sobbed out, and Meryl's eyes bugged out in indignation and distress, "Oh! I'm so glad you told me you were suicidal before it was too late, sempai!" she pulled away from the petite woman and held her at shoulders length.

Meryl stared at Milly in disbelief, her eyebrows so high they were no longer visible on her face, but were under her dark bangs.

"Sempai, you should have told me you were cutting yourself! I can't believe I didn't notice."

Meryl's eye twitched slightly as the silence stretched on among them. Then, she focused her widened eyes on her partner and her face dropped instantly, and on it appeared a look of outrage, "Milly! How could you even think that! Do _I_ look suicidal to you?" her hands knotted in her short hair, "I told you I needed your help _not_ because I'm supposedly suicidal, but because something other than me put that K on my neck and I think I know who it is!" she finished with the last of her breath.

Milly looked stricken for a moment before a huge—relieved—grin split out in her face and she crushed her partner in another hug, "I'm so thankful, sempai! I thought you were hurting yourself!" she nodded before pulling away and holding her friend at shoulders length. At Meryl's calmed sight, she settled herself back down into her seat, keeping one eye on her friend, "But I'm not sure if I understand what you are saying."

Meryl followed Milly's lead and backed up onto her chair. She retrieved her cup of tea and held it firmly in her hands, "Milly, what I am saying is that I did _not_ carve that K into the back of my neck."

She waited patiently for her partner's nod.

"I am also saying that I _think _I know who did, although indirectly."

Milly nodded again, "So whom do you think put it there, sempai?" she asked.

"They didn't exactly physically carve it into my neck, Milly." Meryl took a deep breath before she continued, "I have a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with that half-demon vampire that attacked me two nights ago. The one I had you test the blood on."

The taller woman's brow furrowed slightly, "Why do you think that, sempai?" she darted a slightly accusing look at her friend, "Has he showed up again, and you haven't told me?"

"No, not really…" Meryl trailed off, attempting to look innocent.

Milly caught on, however, and she clasped her hands in worry, "You saw him, sempai?" she bit her lip, "Did he see you??"

Meryl waved her off, "Don't worry, Milly. I'm quite sure he didn't notice I was following him."

The taller woman looked aghast, a rather dramatized expression, "You followed him without me? Sempai! Did you understand the results from the blood? We don't know what he is capable of, sempai!"

"Milly," Meryl protested, "He didn't notice me. Don't worry."

Shaking her head resolutely, her partner replied almost angrily, "I won't let you go out alone again, sempai. You just tell me and I'll come along whenever you want!"

Mentally cringing, Meryl decided not to mention that she had gone hunting without her partner. If this was how she acted if she merely followed a vampire without company, she would hate to see Milly's reaction if she found out she had confronted four vampires by herself…

Meryl nodded for the sake of Milly, "Okay, I'll tell you next time I go out." She smiled somewhat as her friend's eyes lit up, "In fact," she continued slowly, "I didn't just call you over here to show you the mark. I wanted to ask if you would help me out tomorrow, to find the vampire."

As expected, Milly nodded in acceptance, "Of course, sempai…but, why do you want to find him?"

Meryl had braced herself for when this question would come, and took a deep breath before answering, "I told you I thought that the half-blood has something to do with the mark on my neck, didn't I?" she waited for Milly's nod, "I find it odd that right when I was following him, the mark appeared on my neck. It was odd, Milly. He seemed oblivious to me, but usually a vampire could detect when someone is on their trail—even a half-demon. He is strange, and I want to know how and why there is a K engraved in my skin." She paused slightly, "I have a feeling he holds all of my answers…"

When Meryl looked up through the heavy silence blanketing the room, she saw Milly regarding her cautiously, almost guardedly. Pursing her lips suddenly, the petite woman arched an eyebrow in question.

Milly shook her head, the hush broken, "Sempai…I have a bad feeling about this." She stopped abruptly and bit her lip before continuing with a hint of guilt in her voice, "I know your father was very good at his job…but he was a bit of an oddity."

The petite woman stayed silent, and seemed as though what her partner said had not reached her yet.

Milly swallowed slightly, suddenly feeling out of place, "Meryl," she dropped the customary sempai, making her partner's ears perk up at her name falling almost unfamiliarly from the taller woman's lips, "you're beginning to sound like him. You know what happened to him. He was in too deep, Meryl." She sighed, "It is better to stick to your job instead of becoming too involved with their matters…"

The petite woman listened silently as Milly trailed off. A heavy silence once again engulfed the room, plunging the two women into a coldness only broken when Meryl spoke up, her voice determined.

"Milly, I made a promise to my father. I'm not about to break it, and I have a feeling if I want to keep it, I need to know more. Even if you don't want me to, I will if I have to." Meryl glanced at her friend slightly, a smile escaping, "Besides, its my job to be aware what's going on around me. That includes any bloodsuckers scheming on the streets of London."

A light sigh was heard from Milly followed by the strong words the smaller woman was relieved to hear.

"Sempai, I'm with you the whole way."

--

Meryl stood silently, watching passively as Milly's front door opened after the third knock to admit her. The petite woman backed up slightly and down the stairs as the Milly yelled out something quite unintelligible. Then, a light smile broke out on her face as her friend came half-stumbling through the doorway with an umbrella clutched in her hand and a large piece of machinery positioned on her shoulder. Meryl sidestepped quickly as her partner's umbrella swiped through the air, narrowly missing her head.

Milly straightened up once she regained her balance and shut the door quite efficiently behind her before turning to face Meryl.

"Good morning, sempai." She chirped happily, the umbrella now tucked securely under her arm, "Sorry for the delay, I couldn't find my umbrella." She smiled innocently and Meryl shook her head with bright eyes.

"No apologies needed, Milly. After all, I owe you one for coming out with me." The petite woman held out her hand before her and peered up into the grey sky, "It isn't raining, is it?"

Milly laughed slightly, "It's good to be prepared, sempai. The spring weather here can change in an instant." She glanced up, squinting slightly, "Today's a good day for a hunt, sempai, and you know I would have come any way."

Meryl let her hand fall to her side, "Thanks Milly, but I still owe you one."

Nodding slightly, Milly descended the steps to the cobblestone street before taking the umbrella form under her arm and handing it to her partner. Meryl gave her a strange look, but accepted the umbrella as the taller woman grinned, "It's hard to react quickly enough when you have an umbrella _and_ an stun-gun, sempai." She explained to her partner.

Meryl smiled and rested the umbrella on her shoulder and joined her partner on the street. Glancing over at Milly, she asked, "Are you ready? It's been a while since we've done this." The half-lie sounded hallow in her ears, but she kept up her smile and waited for Milly's response.

"I'm always ready, sempai." She beamed and glanced back up at the sky, " I just hope it doesn't get around to raining."

--

A/N: The arrival of Milly's stun gun! Everyone jump for joy! I was contemplating on whether to keep the gun or keep it out before I decided vampire hunting wouldn't be the same without Milly's BASG (Big Ass Stun Gun)

Thanks for your reviews!

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	7. End in the Afternoon

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame 

**A/N: **Thank you everyone who reviewed, this chapter is for you! ;)

_dialogue _– **thoughts**

"dialogue" – **speaking**

**--**

**Chapter 6:**

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It had been steadily growing darker, until clouds obscured what had been showing of the afternoon sun. And over the past hour, the clouds had then shadowed, changing to an ill-omened murky grey, and blocking out any further light. Milly and Meryl had weaved their way around the darkest parts of London, daring into the darkest allies and straying from the crowds. They had watched and waited, paced up and down, ran around in circles and retraced their steps several times.

And every time, they came out empty-handed.

"Sempai, its like they all disappeared…" said Milly softly, glancing up at the darkening sky.

Meryl tried to ignore the feeling of frustration growing inside her, "That's silly, Milly, where could they have gone?? Why would they disappear??"

Choosing to stay silent, the taller woman shrugged slightly.

Meryl growled slightly, a portentous sound in the dank alley where they stood, welcoming all bloodsuckers. But it was true. Where could they go and why would they hide? Vampires were_ supposed_ to suck blood, to come upon people unawares, to slay without exceptions or mercy. They were supposed to jump up at the chance to stalk their prey through a dark alley and watch as they slowly died. And here they were, standing in the gloomy darkness, narrow buildings looming overhead, breathing in the succulence of stale, mouldy air.

So _why _weren't they swarming all around like usual?

Milly sighed; "Maybe they are taking a break, you know, relaxing a little…" she trailed off when she received an incredulous look from her partner.

The petite woman made sure to retort heatedly, just to vent some of her growing frustration, "Milly, I don't think vampires _relax_. Especially when two healthy women like us are wandering aimlessly down their allies with no one to accompany them!"

"Well…" Milly tried again, "Maybe they're afraid of the gun. I don't think vampires are stupid, sempai. They wouldn't run head first into danger."

Meryl snorted and crossed her arms, "I don't know." She said, ending the subject, and turned around to regard the alley with a look of distaste, "Lets get out of this street, though, it's giving me the creeps."

Milly nodded in agreement and they started off toward next road, stun gun (umbrella) and derringers ready.

But both women were very unaware to the eyes watching them carefully, taking in every move somewhat warily with a cautious eye. They did not notice when a dark shadow treaded across the grimy alley and followed them close behind without a sound or trace. They hadn't noticed it the whole day.

--

Nicholas D. Wolfwood stood wordlessly near his front window, watching the outside from the inside with shady eyes. The curtains were drawn slightly, bathing the room in a dimness that darkened only the far corners of the space and shadowed the rest in a light grey. A cigarette was placed between his lips—smoking happily—while in his hand was a cup of steaming tea. It wasn't the greatest mix, but he didn't care.

Right now, he was worried.

Well, only slightly worried.

Only slightly worried about the Big girl and Meryl, that is.

The priest was all too aware that the two women were well enough to help themselves, to defend themselves if the time came. After all, they _were_ involved in the most dangerous practice to come around in a long while. But he couldn't shake the feeling of worry that had plagued him ever since Meryl had told him of the half-blood vampire that she had encountered only…three nights ago?

Had it already been that long?

And without sight or sound of him since??

It was too odd for his liking.

Meryl was getting herself in deep, too deep. Milly had dropped by early last night to tell him she would be out today with the short girl, out hunting for the vampire Meryl seemed to be so intrigued with. She hadn't answered any of his other questions, such as "Why?" or "What's the point?"

What was the point? If he hadn't come after her by now, it probably meant he never would. One brush with Meryl had probably scared him away, and he didn't blame the poor soul. Well…maybe he wasn't a _poor _soul. More like an unfortunate.

But he had his suspicions.

He had an idea what was going on.

Meryl had never insisted on following around vampires before in the eight years she had been hunting. It was either you find it and put it out of its misery, or you leave it alone if you didn't come across it. Vampires usually weren't stupid enough to hold grudges, especially not with a character like Meryl. They probably wouldn't come after an experienced hunter if they knew what was good for them. Why did the Short girl have a sudden interest in this one?

He didn't know, _exactly_. He just had his suspicions.

All he needed to do was wait. Wait until someone told him what was going on in that short girl's mind. Wait until someone decided to tell him what had happened, because he was as curious as hell.

And he was worried…

And that brought him back to the start again.

Wolfwood watched as the first drop of rain fell, hitting the cobbled street before thousands of others followed. Soon, the sky was smudged grey and anything far away way was much too blurred to be seen. The towers of London were streaked black, a muddy brown. Water pelted his window mercilessly, running down in thick veins before falling to the ground, and an endless pitter-patter sounding over and over.

He removed the cigarette from his mouth to take a sip of the tea.

The priest's nose immediately wrinkled in disgust, and he fought to urge to spit the liquid back out.

He had never liked tea…so why the hell had he made it?

Shaking his head, Wolfwood turned away from the window as Big Ben's echoingbong penetrated the cold stillness of the afternoon. It was four o'clock…

He hoped one of the women had had the sense enough to bring along an umbrella, at least.

--

Meryl instinctively twitched as the a drop of rain hit her nose, and she only had to wait a few more seconds before more water began to plummet from the heavens in a promise to wash away all the evil in the land. Scowling, she pulled her hood up, but only had to wait a moment before that was soaked through too. No matter how much rain fell—and there was a hell of a lot right now—there was too much evil in the land for rain to wash away.

But where had she heard that before?

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Meryl watched as Milly unfurled the umbrella. The taller woman had voted to carry it after they had had no success in finding any vampires in over three hours. This was crazy. They were out here in the pouring rain looking for a character that probably wasn't even in London anymore. She watched as her friend shook out the shelter and held it up above her head before motioning Meryl to join her.

She dove under the cover of the wide canopy and flipped back her sodden hood. She had always been like that. Remembering the smallest things that could make the biggest difference in the end.

And she was about to turn and thank her partner when the words were lost and died on her lips.

That was when she saw it.

Just a slight discolouring within the rest of the murky darkness, but nonetheless she could see it.

A shadow.

Tall and ominous. It watched them, glared at them. She could tell it detested them, the hate radiated in waves from its body, pulsing outward through the rain and darkness to penetrate her soggy cloak.

Meryl shuddered and nudged Milly hard in the ribs, a warning sign she would often use during the job.

"Sempai?" was the immediate inquiry to the warning, "What's wrong, sempai?"

Meryl turned to her friend and placed a finger to her lips. The taller woman obviously hadn't seen the vampire yet, "Shhhh! Milly, just start walking towards the main road, I'll be right behind you!" her words came out in a harsh whisper, and she knew the shadow had probably heard her anyway. Setting her teeth, she tried to shoo her friend away, hoping to make a quick getaway before this ended up turning nasty.

Giving her a concerned glance, Milly repeated, "Sempai, what's wrong? I thought you wanted to find him…" she trailed off as Meryl gave her a quick, desperate glance.

But it was quite funny, really. They had come to find a vampire but only ended up being scared off when they found one. Or more like this one found them.

_It must be the rain,_ Meryl told herself weakly, _I've never ran around looking for vampires in the pouring rain before, and I'm not about to now!_ Even speaking reassuringly in her mind did her no good, and as a second shadow—more visible—joined the first, she knew her instincts had been right.

Meryl watched helplessly as more shadows began to appear in the darkness around them, unaffected and unfazed by the rain slapping loudly on the stones. It was only then when Milly noticed their visitors and turned to her partner with wide eyes.

"Sempai?!" she whispered hoarsely, voice frantic, "Sempai! There are too many!"

Meryl could hardly hear Milly's strained voice over the loud sheets of water striking the cobblestones with renewed force, rendering their umbrella almost useless and quickly seeping through her cloak. The downpour sounded like hail, it was so heavy. She shook her head in dismay. She was positive that the vampires could hear Milly even when she struggled to catch the words.

"I know." She stated simply, but dolefully, hardly loud enough for her friend to hear.

If it was possible for Milly to look even more surprised, it was when Meryl admitted their soon-to-be-defeat. Setting her jaw firmly, she literally frowned down upon her partner, "Well, sempai, I don't know about you, but I'm not going down without a fight!" the tall woman adjusted the stun gun on her shoulder and took up a ready stance—all the while glaring at the bloodsucking creatures increasing in numbers every moment.

Meryl's brow creased in worry. It was hopeless, but she wasn't going to start fighting without a reason. They hadn't shown any hostility other than the simple act of surrounding them, and by now they had stopped gathering. The result was a thick ring of shadowed forms watching the two occupants of the centre of the circle.

The petite woman squared her shoulders and held an arm in front of Milly, sending her a warning look before stepping out from her shelter. Immediately, she soaked through with the harsh downpour, and she could have sworn it began bouncing off her cloak when it was so wet it could no longer hold any more water. Wiping the rain from her vision and approaching the shadow—the one that had appeared first, she felt the unease grown in her stomach once more.

_Oh, great, Stryfe! What a perfect time to feel sick! _She almost wanted to hit herself, _Right when the bloodsucking demons show up, you feel ill. If I didn't know myself like I do, I'd swear you were scared of them!_

Meryl came to a stop about five meters away, standing directly in front of the figure and trying desperately to control the weakness that suddenly seemed to plague her as the nausea came.

"What do you want?" she asked over the pounding rain that had reduced her hair to stringy curls matting her face, creating pathways for streaming water to slip down her cheeks and fall into her eyes. She raised her hand up to clear her vision once again and spat water from her mouth.

The figure stayed silent for a moment before stepping quietly out from the shadows, letting the rain pelt its tall form. It seemed unfazed by the deluge.

Meryl stayed silent, watching the shadow warily as it revealed its true height to her. She blinked through the chilly shower, staring up at the vampire.

_Could it be…?_

Meryl assessed the shadowed form through the darkness and rain. It was the same height as that half-blood, the same build.

_Could it be him…?_ She wondered warily, _Is this the half-blooded vampire?_

All her thoughts were banished as she caught a gleam of blue under the hood of the shadow, flashing blue in dim light. They were eyes. Cold, blue eyes. An abrupt choking sound escaped her throat as her eyes widened, and she took a staggering step backwards, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process.

Those eyes!

Meryl's only thought was to get away as quickly as possible, to run from those cold eyes. Unaware to the rain pounding her, Meryl squeezed her eyes shut and continued to back away, hoping and wishing that icy gaze would go away.

But it was not to be, and the shadow wasn't done there. It flew forward quickly—almost seeming to float—before knocking the petite woman off her feet and onto the wet, cold, hard cobblestones coated in a thin layer of soggy grime. A cold, hard laugh escaped its throat.

She landed painfully on her side and immediately gasped, curling up slightly as the shadow approached her. The rain continued to shower almost painfully upon her, and she could feel her body begin to numb. She shuddered, but did not move from her spot on the cold ground.

Meryl heard the brief words of "stupid spider," before a loud, outraged voice yelled from behind her, piercing though the pounding rain. The small woman recognized her partner's voice immediately.

"Hey, you bully!" Milly was heard clearly over the rain, "Leave Meryl alone!" the tall woman had dropped the "sempai" again.

And no more than a second after the call, a loud shot was fired, and Meryl knew Milly's stun gun had been fired at the shadow hovering over her. Mentally thanking her friend for her good instincts, Meryl glanced up through the rain, shielding her face with a stiff arm.

You could believe that she was dismayed when the vampire sidestepped quickly. The shot hit the ring behind him, and the shadowed form seemed to slither away to the sideline. Milly scowled slightly and shot three more times, each directed at the vampire, and each time he managed to avoid them.

Taking her chance, Meryl stumbled up, backing hastily away from the blue-eyed vampire even as it backed off from the stun gun that aimed at it once again. She was breathing heavily the whole time, feeling both sick and weak. Rain ran down her face and into her mouth, leaving a gritty taste that was quite unpleasant, but one that she didn't seem to notice.

_I need to get away! _She thought frantically, all the while only slightly aware of the throbbing on the back of her neck.

She backed hastily into the centre of the circle, toward Milly—who was frantically trying to get her gun back together to take another shot. The rain continued to pound down upon them all, making everything slippery and chilling them to the bone. It obscured her vision, stinging her eyes so badly that she almost didn't see when the whole circle shifted as one, closing swiftly in on the two.

She was numb.

Coming back to her senses after her painful encounter, she looked up just in time to see a vampire hurtling itself at her. Yelling out a quick warning, Meryl did the only thing that came to her mind, and snatched the discarded umbrella from the ground where it had been dropped. Beside her, Milly aimed her stun gun steadily at the group that seemed to be throwing themselves at her, indifferent to the danger that waited with a gun mounted on her shoulder. Both women struck out bravely at the same time, trying to defend themselves from the mob.

Meryl sent the umbrella into one of the revealed shadows, and pushed it off to the side before efficiently smacking the next vampire over the head with twice the force.

"Milly!" she called out to her partner, "Milly, follow me!" Meryl glanced over at the tall woman before swiping out with the umbrella.

Milly nodded, and Meryl ploughed through the mass with Milly close behind.

Unnoticed to all went the silent observer, a mere shadow like the others, but not one with cruel intentions. He watched silently, not taking his eyes from the group before him. He was no participant in the violent scene before him.

The two women broke through the distorted ring at the same time and broke into a run down the remaining length of the alley. Meryl's legs were numb with the cold rain continuously pounding down upon her, and Milly was in no better shape with her stun gun perched heavily on her aching shoulder.

Glancing behind them, Meryl saw the throng of bloodsuckers had finally realized the partners had escaped and were now close behind, black shadows gaining swiftly.

They wouldn't last long with the vampires' speed against them.

Frowning, Meryl fell in beside the taller woman, "Milly, we have to lose them, they're too fast! We won't last long like this!" she swiped the rain from her eyes.

Milly nodded in determination and adjusted the gun on her shoulder, "Sempai, we turn left at this corner, it will lead us towards the main street running through the market! If we get into the crowds, we'll have a much better chance!" the tall woman blinked the water from her eyes and urged her numbed limbs to move quicker.

Meryl pulled a derringer from her saturated cloak, almost hoping to lighten the weight on her back, "Milly, nobody will be out in the rain!" she said, and the two women rounded the corner with their pursuers not far behind. The petite woman slipped suddenly, skidding on the wet stones, sliding off to the side and losing her balance. She stumbled slightly, struggling to regain her footing before the enemy overcame her.

Looking up, she was rather shocked to see no sign of Milly.

Maybe had slipped too…?

Meryl glanced around, peering through the heavy inundation.

But her friend wasn't in sight.

The petite woman resisted the urge to backtrack as the sound of shouts neared, and she recognized them of the throng perusing her. Taking off again, Meryl kept a keen eye out for her partner and tried—unsuccessfully—to increase the speed of her numbed legs.

Hadn't she read something about this that happened in Spain? Crazy madmen running through the narrow, winding streets and chased by rabid bulls intent on spearing them with their horns??

_Hah! And they have it easy, _Meryl thought bitterly, risking a glance back at the vampires swarming like a wave after her.

They didn't have a massive amount of irritated—and hungry bloodsuckers on legs running after them through the freezing rain and slippery roads with no lifeline if they happened to fall and be trampled, or even worse, relieved of all the blood in their body within five minutes…

Meryl shuddered and somehow found the courage to turn back and fire her derringer at the vampires. She waited a moment, watching the shadows creep upon her like darkness after day. Seeing that her gun did not—in fact—seem to perturb them, she got the distinct feeling of utter helplessness and decided to turn and run instead of wasting any more time.

_Sometimes you have the most idiotic ideas, Stryfe! _

Even her mind hated her now!

Grinding her teeth, the petite woman searched around for her partner. Where the hell had she gone? Leaving her friend out to face the enemy so outnumbered??

Using the last of her conscious strength—and rapidly depleting will—Meryl forced her frozen body and strained lungs to the limit as she rounded another corner and took off down the deserted, dark, wet and completely…long and endless looking street.

She could hear the bloodsuckers behind her, even though they hadn't yet rounded the corner. Or maybe that was just her completely panicked mind playing tricks on her. Shaking her head and blinking the rain from her eyes, Meryl tried to focus on positive thoughts.

Right!

Who was she kidding?? No partner, uncountable number of vampires each wanting to kill her first, who wouldn't be scared??

And just as utter panic began to grip her, her thoughts turning positively horrid, and Meryl's progress was halted rather abruptly as she was tripped up. The air forced from her lungs as she hit the hard street, Meryl hardly gave a objection when she was grabbed rather roughly and dragged—feeling only half conscious—into an adjoining alley with a large hand clamped firmly over her mouth.

When her spinning vision restored itself, and she finally realized what was happening, she struggled violently with rapidly depleting strength. And the distinct feeling that she was going to suffocate if she didn't get enough air, air that, while breathing through your nose, just didn't supply. Meryl was dragged off into the shadows and down another street without any strain whatsoever from the person holding her, however, and was completely helpless. The hand over her mouth prevented any voiced complaint (as if she could have said anything in her condition anyway) and her protests were ignored.

But with the frantic hope that Milly was indeed alive, Meryl certainly did not want to be dragged away from her friend if she was in trouble. She wasn't about to abandon her partner to vampires. She _had _to find Milly. So, fed up with her rough treatment the past while, and her anger finally managing to get the better of her, Meryl bit down—hard—on her kidnappers hand.

A strangled yelp was heard from "him", and she was released quickly, the coppery taste of blood on her tongue. It made her feel even more ill, but she fought against her weakness and pulled herself from her unknown assailant.

Meryl stumbled toward the alley wall where they stood and felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. She quickly shook her head to clear her mind. Then, spinning around, she managed to pull a derringer from under her cloak and shove it roughly in the face of her would-be attacker.

Though, she nearly dropped it when her angry, smoky-grey eyes met bothered, and slightly uneasy aqua green ones.

Meryl stumbled back for the second time that day, her eyes wide and face pale—partly from the cold and partly from the person before her.

"I-Its you…!" she gasped, her voice suddenly loud in her ears, loud in the passage that was shielded from the furious downpour. Her derringer loosened from her fingers and clattered to the stones of the alleyway.

Imagine the irony of it all…

--

A/N: Ooh…can you guess who it is?

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	8. Shadow in the Light

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame 

_dialogue_ - thoughts

"dialogue" - speaking

--

**Chapter 7**

--

Meryl blinked as if trying to clear her vision. She then proceeded to stare almost incredulously at the person before her.

It was him!

And despite the fact that it was excessively dark where she stood, as there were overhangs from the buildings on either side that blocked out all light- and rain-she could still see him quite clearly.

It was definitely the half-blooded vampire that seemed to be the centre focus of her mind for the past few days.

And he had somehow managed to find her before she had him, too! The petite woman was beginning to wonder if he purposefully showed up at the strangest times possible, or if it was just her combined with unnecessary stress and frustration.

She continued to stare at him as if he was some type of ghost.

Well, that depended on how you looked at him.

_Meryl, you aren't mute! Say something!_ Meryl's mind urged her on, but somehow and for some mysterious reason, she couldn't think of anything to say. Maybe nothing she was thinking and feeling could be expressed in words.

Or maybe she was just and idiot letting her quarry slip away from her.

And either way, she merely continued to gape at him, and he seemed content on staring straight back.

_Oh great._ Dspite the fact that Meryl looked stumped on the outside, her mind was racing. _Since whendid I become speechless in front of vampires??_

With her thoughts running madly around her head and scattering before she could get a firm hold on any idea whatsoever, she stayed completely motionless. It was only when a stray drop of rain slipped down from above to splat on her forehead that she snapped out of it and tensed up, a scowl forming on her face. He was a vampire, after all. And you don't just stare dumbly at vampires! You never know what they're going to do next!

So, doing the only thing that came to mind, Meryl pointed an accusatory finger at the man and demanded, "What are you doing here?" as if it was somehow his fault she was freezing to the bone, numb and queasy at the same time.

The blonde blinked in what looked to be confusion as his eyebrows shot up, "Me??"

_Well, who else, idiot? _"Yes, you!" Meryl didn't even bother being polite to the man. After all, he was only a half-blood and certainly not as threatening as a full-fledged vampire. Hell, she could kill him on the spot, and he probably wouldn't even notice until there was a stake through his chest.

He looked completely stumped at that, and frowned slightly, "I was.just strolling by..." he trailed off and began to edge slowly away from the petite woman, hoping she wouldn't notice in the dimness.

Meryl, however, hardly heard the man. Trying to shake reckless thoughts from her head that were sure to get her killed, she was already too late when she focused her attention back on the vampire.

And before Meryl could get in another word-or any word at all-the blonde suddenly grinned goofily (although eyed her warily at the same time) before announcing in a fake cheery voice she thought she would never hear from a man, no less a vampire, "You know what? I think I'm going to leave you alone, now."

And with that-a simple statement, he slipped away from Meryl (who now had her fists clenched and ready in defence, finally getting her thoughts right and decided he really was a vampire, therefore a force to be reckoned with) and ran blindly toward the exit.

The petite woman looked outraged and stood in stunned silence for a moment before snapping out and yelling indignantly to the man's retreating form, "Hey! Where are you going??"

Her only answer was a hurried wave from over the vampire's shoulder as he ran, and disappeared around the corner and back into the hard sheets of rain. Meryl started after him-with a look quite like that of murder on her face-when a small voice suddenly halted her dead in her tracks.

"Sempai...?"

Now it didn't take a genius to figure out whom the voice belonged to, and Meryl whirled around, quickly forgetting about the escaping culprit and focusing her attention on her "vanished" friend.

"Milly?" the petite woman questioned almost quietly, staring into the darkness and looking for the source.

A shadow shifted by the wall, and Milly was heard again, "Sempai! It is you! I must have dozed off for a moment there.I'd thought for sure the vampires had gotten you, sempai!" the petite woman could hear her smile, "I'm so glad you're all right!"

Meryl quickly darted over to her partner and was by her side in a second, "Milly, are you all right?" she shot back, "Where did you run off to?" she kneeled down beside her seated friend.

Milly smiled again through the darkness, and beamed at her partner, "Sempai, Mr. Vash helped me after you disappeared." She nodded to herself as if to confirm the fact.

Suddenly looking perplexed, Meryl asked hesitantly, "Helped you?" and her voice hardened in an instant before she stood up abruptly, "If he bit you I'll kill him!"

The taller woman's brow furrowed in confusion, "Bite me? Why would Mr. Vash bite me, sempai?" she slowly pulled herself from the ground and cast a quizzical eye at her partner, "Didn't you just meet him a moment ago? Or did he run off before you could meet him? Quite a jumpy man, he was."

Meryl turned to Milly, fear and outrage mixed clearly in her grey eyes, "That was him, Milly!" she exclaimed while pointing toward the end of the alley where he had disappeared.

"Who?" came the reply.

Meryl brought a hand to her head and sighed in distress, "The half-vampire I've been looking for." She answered mournfully, realization that she had lost him once again settling in her mind.

Shocked, Milly cried, "Why didn't you go after him, sempai?!"

Shaking her head, Meryl's shoulders sagged, "Never mind." She mumbled, not bothering to speak the truth. It would only raise more unneeded questions, "Let's make sure everything is clear and then we can leave to my house. I've had enough of this for one day."

"But sempai, we can still find him if we try!" Milly protested, but her complaints were lost on Meryl.

The petite woman took hold of her soggy cloak and pulled at it, "Look at us, Milly! There are swarms of vampire's wandering around London, out for our blood. It's raining, freezing cold and we are both soaked to the skin, if you haven't already noticed!"

Milly stayed silent, carefully digesting the words.

Sighing in defeat, the petite woman added, "Besides, I'm tired. I can't run around the city searching for a vampire who only seems to show up when I'm not looking for him." Meryl began to make her way towards the exit where rain was still running rivers down the street.

Milly joined her and they stared out at the sheets of water pounding the cobblestones and houses. Rain recoiled violently from any surfaces and bounced back up in the air before coming to a final rest on the ground. Both women shuddered simultaneously, the cold finally managing to catch up with them.

"Sempai.?" Milly crossed her arms as her teeth began to chatter, "You don't happen to have that umbrella with you still, do you?"

--

A loud sneeze sounded throughout the room, disturbing the brief silence, and Meryl brought a kerchief to her nose before another sneeze came on.

Milly sniffed and pulled the blankets tighter around her body before positioning herself more comfortably on her partner's ling room couch, "Sempai, what do we do now?" the woman asked, and sniffled again, her nose a rosy red colour.

Meryl groaned slightly and leaned back in her chair, resting her head on her pillow and gathering the warm quilts around her, "We sit and hope our colds go away sometime soon," declared the shorter woman in an almost nasal sound, her voice muffled with her cold.

Milly sniffled again, bringing her handkerchief her nose, "But sempai, Mr. Vash might leave London before we get outside again!" a violent fit of sneezes interrupted her cut off any more protests that she had planned to say.

"Right now," stated the petite woman pathetically, "I don't care if I never see him again."

Holding a kerchief over her nose, Milly shook her head, "But sempai, what about the mark on the back of your neck? Do you still think Mr. Vash has something to do with it?" her eyes began to water as yet another sneeze came on.

"Yes," Meryl admitted grudgingly, watching as Milly shook under the blankets, "Today only proved that, I think."

Sniffling, Milly blinked at her partner, "What do you mean, sempai?"

Meryl opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off as Milly was reduced into anther fit of sneezes. She waited patiently until her friend was done before muttering, "Bless you," and trying to recall what she was going to say.

"Sempai?"

Meryl sniffed, "Oh...um." she trailed off as her eyes began to sparkle with tears, a sign another bout of sneezes was coming on.

They did, and as Meryl finished, she growled in frustration before heading onto what she had been trying to say, "I mean, that idiot was following us! He must have seen the whole thing with that pack of bloodsuckers, how else would he have shown up at the perfect time to 'rescue' us??"

"Oh." Milly nodded before she was bowled over with another fit of sneezes.

Over Milly's sneezing and her own temporary lack of hearing, Meryl somehow managed to catch the quick knock on her door before recognizing it immediately. Standing up-but wobbling slightly-she made her way out of the room with a quilt clutched tightly to her chest. Reaching the entrance just as her visitor began to rap on the wood again, she grumbled a choice curse and reached to unlock the door.

A vicious bout of sneezes overwhelmed her as she pulled the door open to admit the person outside, and she whipped out her kerchief before she was forced to use her sweater as a makeshift tissue.

Meryl wiped her eyes grudgingly and began to make her way to her chair, "We're in the living room, Nick." She called-her voice slightly muffled-over her shoulder.

The priest regarded the retreating woman with a slightly raised eyebrow before shrugging and shutting the door firmly behind him. Proceeding to remove his overcoat, he listened as the faint sound of talking reached his ears. The rainstorm had finally receded to plague some other part of England, and he hung his dry coat on a spare hook and removed his clean-for once-boots. Then, he made his way silently to Meryl's living room, where the sight before his caused a dry smirk to appear on is rather scruffy face.

Meryl was curled up on her big chair, nearly buried under a massive pile of quilts and pillows with a handkerchief positioned permanently at her nose while Milly lay shrouded in blankets with several pillows propping up her head. Both women look slightly pale; both women were sneezing simultaneously and both women looked thoroughly ill.

Wolfwood grinned at Meryl, "Wasn't one of you smart enough to bring an umbrella?"

Meryl snorted, her smoky-grey eyes narrowing, "We did bring an umbrella." She glanced at Milly, "It's lying somewhere downtown witha thousandholes in it and a broken handle." She coughed slightly after finishing the sentence.

"The umbrella was no match for the rain, Mr. Priest," Milly piped in, "It wasn't much help against all those vampires, either." Her face took on a thoughtful look, and she missed the shocked expression that passed over Wolfwood's face.

The priest turned swiftly to Meryl, a scowl firmly in place, "What's this??" he asked, outrage evident in his voice.

Meryl met his gaze levelly and wrinkled her red nose in distaste, "Do something useful if you're here instead of making a fuss." She stated firmly, although the effect was reduced by the muffling of her voice, "Go make us a pot of tea if you want to know the story."

Wolfwood's outrage was immediately replaced with dismay, and he looked to Milly for help, but she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. Turning back to Meryl, he met a satisfied smirk. Sighing slightly in defeat, the priest trudged off to the kitchen and set about brewing a pot of tea.

Like he had stated before, he had never liked the stuff.

--

Smokey-grey eyes stared dully through the darkness, taking in the faintly lit street below from the safety of the inside.

It had not rained since earlier that day, when Milly and herself had been out searching for the half-blood, Vash. For that she was thankful.The dampwould not aid her recuperation much, and she needed to be rid of the spring cold quickly if she ever wanted to find the underlying cause of this mark on her neck. Not to mention that annoying half-blood that didn't want to co- operate.

She had some suspicions, those including the mysterious man with the blue eyes.

Those eyes had been haunting her ever since she had seen that carriage.

It was him, she knew, but she didn't know what he wanted.

In fact, she didn't want to know what he wanted, even though her curiosity seemed to be slowly eating away at her mind. It was driving her insane, and she couldn't help it.

She didn't want to know why her dreams were nothing but nightmares repeating over and over, running her into fear and darkness, or why this stranger with icy blue eyes had assaulted her with a group of vampires.

He was one himself, she knew. He was definitely a bloodsucker, there was no mistaking that.

And why had she almost mistaken him for the half-blood-Vash? The half-blood that had saved her and Milly, with no reason to.

She had stabbed the man, for god's sakes! He should hate her, he should have killed her.

But Wolfwood had assumed he was a half-blood who refused his true vampire heritage, the kind that refused blood and avoided any of their kind. His actions earlier had only further confirmed the priest's assumption.

Meryl stood up from her bed and stepped up to the window to peer along the boulevard that her old house was positioned on-crammed between two more housed and facing a packed street block. She focused on the street below (the corner that led to an intersection, around the shoe shop across from her house) and was surprised when the lamps bordering the road suddenly sputtered feebly before flickering and dying out.

They had been doing that more than usual lately, but that had been because of the rain.

Now, it was not raining.

Blinking rapidly, Meryl pulled her blanket off the bed and quickly covered herself with it. She gazed down to the cobblestone street and watched the road cautiously.

Something moved within the inky blackness, with slinking progress.

Breath hitching sharply, Meryl stumbled back slightly, but kept her eyes locked on the dark form below.

And as it moved again, she saw-somewhat to her dismay, but very much to her relief-that it was only a cat. A black cat.

The small form slithered off into the night, and Meryl lost sight of it in the darkness.

Sighing in relief, the petite woman backed up, away from the window and sat down heavily on her bed. Sniffling slightly, she stretched out on the bed.

Her throat was scratchy and sore, but her sneezing had calmed down somewhat.

Suddenly, her room was illuminated slightly, and Meryl shot up so abruptly it made her head spin. Her head snapping towards the window, she saw a flickering light brightening the building facing hers.

The petite woman stumbled out from her bed and ran toward the window. And surely enough, the lamplights were glowing merrily once again, and there was no sight of the person who relit them.

How had the found out so quickly that the street lamps were out?? Usually they would be off half the night before being relit sometime in the morning, and by then they would be of no use.

Meryl clutched the sill of the window tightly and watched-frozen to the spot as a shadow moved into the light. It swayed slightly and approached the nearest lamp, the one directly across from her house. It was so familiar she nearly yelled out in alarm, but managed to keep quite with the crazy thought that if she made a so much as a peep, he would somehow see her.

Meryl watched, frozen as it turned it's hidden face up to her window, and she was sure she saw it smile-a cruel, cold smile.

She tumbled back from the window as though just looking at it had burnt her and fell to the floor with a loud thump that seemed to reverberate throughout her whole bedroom

Gulping down air, she attempted to calm herself. A fit of coughs then overtook her, and she fought for air.

It didn't work, and she pulled her discarded blanket from her bed and wrapped it firmly around herself. Meryl shivered and wheezed slightly, fighting back the sneeze forcing it's way up and blinked back her tears.

This was too much.

_Tomorrow,_ she thought steely, _I don't care if all the damned vampires in all of England are after me. I'm going to get to the bottom of this, and all hell will freeze over before I don't!_

--

A/N: That was fairly, long, so I hope you're happy with it!

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	9. Gold in the Eyes

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame 

_dialogue _– **thoughts**

"dialogue" – **speaking**

**--**

Chapter 8

--

She had debated briefly with herself on whether or not to inform Milly or Wolfwood of what she was going to do and came to the simple conclusion that she shouldn't waste her breath. After all, this was_ her_ problem, and there was no sense in Milly or a priest to be mixed up in it. It wasn't fair to them. It wasn't fair to her. She had to deal with her problems alone, by herself and on her own. She always had.

Only a flutter of unease across her mind alerted her to her own stupidity before it was swept aside with pure determination.

She had a promise to keep, after all, and maybe she was getting closer to fulfilling her father's wishes.

Meryl adjusted her heavy cloak one last time before plucking her handkerchief from her kitchen table. She sniffled slightly and jammed in into her pocket for safekeeping. She wasn't one to take her health lightly, but when it came in the way of a job well done, she could only take precautions.

Besides, a small cold was nothing to worry about, and it had gotten much better since the day before.

The petite woman checked over her derringers, making sure all fifty were tucked securely until they came to use. She had taken her stakes, too. She had found they could be just as effective against unwanted guests as silver bullets. There were ten of them, all strapped neatly in a row along her belt.

Everything was set, then.

Today was the day she would find the true underlying cause of the strange occurrences that had been revolving around her ever since her first encounter with the mysterious half-blood—Vash.

It had all started with him, and she would end it with him.

Meryl was sure Vash held all of her answers.

Vash sighed heavily and leaned back onto his bed until he was sprawled out fully.

It was heavy on his mind, and knew he could do nothing to clear it.

He had face the reality of his situation, and try to make the best of it…

How could he?

His brother had left Purebrood to track him down, and Vash knew that couldn't be a good thing.

His own brother wanted nothing more than to wipe out all the humans in his path, he wouldn't even bother to turn them. He wanted nothing more than to kill the people Vash was attempting to save.

And apparently, he hadn't done a good enough job of it. Now that short woman was involved, her collaborate too, and he wasn't sure if he could help them. His brother was too powerful, he could do almost anything he wished…

But there was no doubt about it, and the thought was a heavy weight of guilt on his mind, pulling him down.

Knives was after the two women, and he wasn't sure if he could stop him…

--

Mr. Priest had insisted on accompanying her to Meryl's. It was only because of her cold, she was sure, but couldn't shake the slight feeling of restlessness that was ticking in the back of her head. It was only just barely there…

But she didn't see it as that big of a deal. She wasn't worried about her apprehension, and a cold was a cold. She had had much worse—like that one year she had contracted the flu from the dirty water of London, or when she had fallen in with that unnamed virus that had managed to wipe out half of England two years ago. So, really, this was nothing. Nothing but a spring cold had by too much fresh air and maybe a little too much rain.

But she could still sense something else, too. Barely. Faintly. The ticking in her head an itch waiting to be scratched.

Mr. Priest kept his true thoughts hidden quite efficiently, but Milly had Meryl to deal with, and being with Meryl had made her and expert. And, of course, she wasn't as dumb as she may have looked. She caught onto more than what the world let out.

And she had found that Nicholas was nervous, apprehensive, worried, all three mixed together in one big heap to make a wave of unease spread out from his body. Of course, she wasn't as good as Meryl when in came to sensing people's emotions. The short woman claimed it came from her father—her amazing in depth perception of people and what they felt.

She had said it came in handy every once in a while.

So, naturally—and Milly couldn't see how any other normal person could miss it—that Mr. Priest was, indeed having mixed thoughts about something or other.

And she wished she knew what was bothering him, as she wished she knew what was bothering herself.

Sighing slightly, and aware that Wolfwood had stopped just at the bottom of the steps while Milly ascended them, she took hold of knocker and rapped it sharply three times. She waited patiently for a response, a muffled apology and the sound of the lock clicking open and the knob turning.

And when none came, she turned to face the priest with a slightly worried tinge to her eyes.

"Mr. Priest." She said simply, and the shaggy man nodded before backing off slightly to sneak a peak into one of Meryl's windows.

Wolfwood observed the house neutrally, although, on the inside his stomach was twisting and turning, jumping nervously and flip-flopping in circles. He had known something was wrong.

_How did I know the short girl would do something stupid like this?_ the priest asked himself woefully when he discovered that the house was a good as empty. No lights were on and there was no sign of life within the walls.

He grimaced slightly and patted himself down form a cigarette before shaking is head solemnly at Milly. Trust Meryl to go off by herself, trying to prove to everyone that she could do it be herself. Trust her not to involve others in her problems.

"The shorty isn't here, big girl."

The 'big girl's' hand immediately went to her mouth, and she paled slightly before whispering lightly.

"Oh, dear."

--

Meryl had retraced her steps from the day before, wandering around aimlessly for over an hour before finding a familiar landmark and sighing in relief. From here—and she hadn't taken the time yesterday to enjoy it—on the slight rise in the streets, you could see a good portion of London. Grey smoke drifting up aimlessly, the smoggy sky contributing to its dirtiness.

The petite woman frowned slightly.

She could see Big Ben, the huge clock tower looming around the buildings neighbouring it. The city was grey, the perfect shade to match its overall mood. Dying, hateful, ominous, no place for women to be. And here she was, standing out in the open and welcoming all of the daywalkers who could bear the light to come at her. What a fool.

Meryl's smoky eyes rested on the city once more before she turned from the view and headed off down the street again, passing by houses that blocked the ugly picture. That was why she was here, to help London—to help England. Her job was to rid this place of the scum that was killing it.

She passed only two people, both suspicious and dark. She hadn't looked at them, but had continued staring ahead.

Unwelcome attention spelled unwelcome guests.

And she only had one goal, to find that no good half-blood who called himself Vash.

--

The vampire in question was quite near his hunter, in fact, but he was doing anything but trying to find her.

It was more like avoidance.

She knew what he was, he bet, and he didn't feel like having a mob of angry Londoners with guns and stakes on his heels. So the best thing to do was stay in the shadows and avoid anyone he may see. He almost wished he were back inside his hotel room with nothing to worry about.

And that brought him to the question of why he was out in the first place if he didn't want to be discovered by that woman and her friend—or anyone else for that matter.

Vash was grim. His brother obviously thought something of that woman, and most likely wanted her dead. Actually, he was sure he wanted her dead. Why else would he have gathered over twenty vampires in the middle of day during a huge rainstorm just to ambush two "harmless women?"

Quite harmless indeed…

The blonde figured they were both hunters, intent on exterminating all of his kind. Why else would that short one have a cloak full of derringers and that taller one—Milly, she said her name was—have a huge stun gun ready and waiting. Plus, who knows how many other weapons they kept hidden in their clothes.

And why did Knives want them dead?

He had been known to go after several hunters and kill them himself, but that had only been if they were a _real _threat to vampires.

Surely two mere women—and one a tall a child—couldn't seriously intimidate Knives? Could they?

He needed answers.

And to get answers, he had to find Knives.

--

Meryl—despite her years of experience—hadn't even heard until too late. She hadn't even seen. There had been no warning whatsoever, no indication of attack. She was just suddenly…aware someone--something was behind her, staring at her. And she hadn't even sensed him.

Briefly, Meryl had berated herself and thought quite humourlessly that this was exactly the reason you always had a partner in this business, and when she was suddenly suspended in the air with an arm around her neck with no view of the vampire behind her, she suddenly wished she _had _asked Milly to come along. Maybe, then, her current uncomfortable position may have been avoided.

Although she doubted it slightly. She didn't know how many more were out there, just watching.

But her thoughts were cut off abruptly when the arm hooked around her neck tightened considerably and the strain of being suspended with no support finally got to her.

Her hands shot up to grasp the clothed arm, and she struggled almost feebly, lights bursting behind her eyes as she tried fervently to pull herself free.

A low voice said in her ear, "My master will be pleased once you are dead."

Meryl didn't recognize his voice, but the thought of who could possibly be strangling her was the last thing on her mind. Right now, her first priority was to get away with her life. The petite woman kicked her feet feebly, only to find that it placed more strain on her neck. She settled for using one of her much needed hands to find one of her derringers.

The cold metal of a gun brushed past her fingers, and Meryl's hand encircled it.

Then, bringing the gun back up, she aimed it over her shoulder and promptly fired.

It was a misfire - a total miscalculation.

The petite woman suddenly found herself on her back with no air left in her lungs.

Apparently, he had been quicker than she had originally thought. Vampires tended to do that, though. Doing unexpected things at unexpected times. She hated it.

One golden glared at her, dark blue hair hiding the other from view, "Maybe," he mused as the gun cocked, "I should kill you quickly. You don't seem to want to die."

Still struggling with her vision, Meryl managed to focus on the gun in her face before it was too late. In a move that was instinctive and desperate, she sent her foot upwards toward the gun and could only hope her foot could reach it.

The weapon was sent sailing.

The tall vampire looked slightly shocked—but only for a moment—and Meryl scooted backwards, trying desperately to distance herself from the man.

It didn't take long until he found out what she was doing, though, and he turned quickly before approaching her.

"Some humans are so reckless." He stated, almost to himself, and turned cold eyes onto Meryl.

The petite woman's body suddenly froze up, and she sat staring at the vampire before her. Face passive, one golden eye inexpressive, he approached her with his white clock flapping in an unseen and nonexistent breeze.

"Yet even when they know they are going to lose, they still fight." He crouched down by her side and stared at her for a moment.

He looked to be pondering, "Too bad my master doesn't think you would be an adequate vampire." He took her chin in one gloved hand as if he was inspecting her, "You would have done well as one of us, human."

--

Vash had passed the place where the two women had encountered Knives' vampires for the first time about five minutes ago, and not, to tell the truth, he had no idea where he was.

Somewhere between a street and an alley, he presumed.

The half-blood sighed slightly and continued down his path, turning around and listening, using all of his mind and body to find a hint of his brother somewhere in London. He hadn't even ran into any other vampires, which was very strange considering the amount of people in the city.

Suddenly, Vash stopped, halting his progress and tuning in his senses.

Being a half-blood had its advantages, and Vash was entirely grateful when he picked up in on another vampire near by. Over to his left, maybe a hundred yards.

Smiling slightly, Vash headed off quickly, intent on finding the vampire and getting information.

--

Wasn't this just what she needed? Exercise?

The petite woman doubted it.

Meryl arms shook with the strain of holding off the vampire's boot—which was currently trying to grind her head into the ground—and she wished once more and not for the last time that Milly was with her. That stun gun sure would come in useful right about now.

The man chuckled, a low sound in his throat, "See, human, you should have let me shoot you, it would have ended this quicker and caused you less effort."

Meryl growled slightly, her teeth grinding in tension, "Why don't you just go get it, then? It'll save you the trouble of getting blood on your boots!"

The blue haired vampire made a show of thinking, all the while leaning more weight on the foot the petite woman was supporting. He suddenly eased up, "Your cooperation is appreciated. My master will be pleased."

The strain on Meryl's arms was suddenly let up as the vampire turned away, headed toward the discarded weapon. Her arms felt nothing short of jelly, but right then she didn't care. Immediately, she whipped out a derringer and set it on his tall form, her hands shaking but her aim good. A grim smile spread across her face as her finger tightened on the trigger…

And her arm seized up, frozen in place as her gun clattered uselessly onto the cobblestones, the sound hollow to her ears.

_Not again! _Meryl thought angrily as the rest of her body froze up. She was forced to watch as the vampire retrieved his gun and turned back to her.

"He would not be pleased if I came back dead with my mission unsuccessful." The man once again approached her, but stopped a few metres away.

Meryl couldn't speak.

"Get up." He commanded, his gun in hand and face void of any emotion.

The petite woman stared dumbly at the vampire, unresponsive for a moment before her traitorous body lifted itself from the ground and stood facing the golden-eyed man. Meryl watched the bloodsucker warily, her mind racing wildly but her body frozen stiffly, desperately wanting to be as free as her thoughts.

Mind control was new to her in vampires. She had never encountered one with such abilities before, and to put it simply, she was more nervous than when she had encountered the icy eyed man himself. Not even when she had a pack of ravenous bloodsuckers on her heels had she been so incapable.

He raised his gun easily and aimed straight at her chest; "Humans have no place in this world, side by side with vampires. It's easy to remember."

Meryl couldn't even gulp nervously, and her breath was severely restrained. All see could do was stare straight ahead, right at the gun and wait until it all ended.

A ghost of a smile flickered across the vampire's face, and his finger slowly tightened on the trigger.

Meryl watched…

_"Stop!"_

A lone voice hollered from somewhere behind the vampire, and disappointment slid briefly over his face before he turned—gun raised—to the newcomer who had interrupted his fun.

Meryl would have gasped if she could, so instead she settled fro staring blankly, frozen uncomfortably and awaiting her fate.

The blue haired vampire managed an almost indifferent smirk before a mask of indifference conquered his face.

"How considerate of you to drop by, Vash Saverem…"

The blonde vampire stood his ground and narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Legato…"

--

A/N: Heh heh heh. How's that for a cliffy, eh? Sorry for all the skipping around! Hope you like it!

Thanks for reading!

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	10. Frozen in the Crossfire

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame

--

**Chapter 9:**

**--**

Milly sneezed loudly, and the sound seemed to echo in the room. It broke the suppressed silence surrounding her quite efficiently, that was for sure.

She sat near the fire that crackled merrily, but failing to warm the room. It was Nicholas's living room, to be precise, and she was sitting stone stiff in his chair with blankets piled around her and a handkerchief close at hand. She was anything but relaxed, though (how could she be??), and she was more than sure it had nothing to do with her cold.

In fact, she knew exactly what had her so upset, what had distressed her so much that she sat like petrified wood, spine straight, in such a comfortable chair.

Meryl had gone off without her.

Milly had promised herself that she would always go on a hunt with Meryl, it was a custom, and they were partners.

Of course, once her suspicions had been confirmed, she found that she really wasn't very surprised after all.

Meryl was like that sometimes.

However, Milly's musing were cut short as Wolfwood re-entered his living room with a cup of steaming tea held carefully in his hands. He held it wordlessly out to her, face stony and grey eyes stormy. And then Milly sighed, forcing a weak smile onto her pale face as the realization finally hit her hard.

Meryl had gone out _alone._ With half the vampires in London out for her blood, no less.

All she had was weapons, there was no backup this time.

She was in great danger, and the half-blood was probably long gone by now, if he knew what was good for him, that is.

_And,_ Milly though dully, accepting the tea, _there is nothing I can do to help._

_--_

A sudden sense of warmth passed briefly through Meryl's body as she continued to stare ahead, frozen to the spot. It left her tingling, and her limbs aching as though they had just woken up. She could feel the hold Legato had on her breaking away, and the vampire didn't seem to notice one bit.

Still, though, she felt as though she had been turned into stone or sculpted from rock, making her unable to move. It sickened her, but the sudden feeling left her possessed body prickling with life.

She was still trapped—unable to move, but as the sensation washed over her once again, a feeling a prisoner might have when he was set free set in.

And she had been, in a sense.

Meryl—quite suddenly—found she could flex her fingers again, and she unconsciously curled them into tight fists at her sides.

The golden-eyes vampire's attention had been averted somewhat rapidly to the half-blood, and he had unconsciously set her free from his mental hold in doing so.

The half-blood…

Meryl had never felt happier to see the blonde man, and she figured she never would again, so she decided to enjoy it.

Taking her seemingly _perfect_ opportunity, the petite woman unfurled herself mentally and physically from the vampire's power. Sighing soundlessly as she freed herself, Meryl glanced briefly at the two bloodsuckers before beginning to slowly edge away. She kept her eyes locked on the two tall forms having a silent standoff in the middle of the street all the while; she wasn't about to risk any sudden attention. It was safe to say she was uneasy and nervous that the blue-haired vampire might once again force her under his hold.

So, taking great care not to scuffle her boots on the stones, Meryl turned and searched behind her for and escape route. A sensible idea, as only thought on her mind at that moment was to find someplace to run before doing so.

She quickly dismissed a few exits before locating an alley followed closely by another street branching off into the dirty suburbs.

_That's it, Stryfe, your escape route. Now don't screw up and you'll probably get out of this alive!_

All thoughts on getaway, the petite woman nearly jumped clear out of her skin when one quick gunshot cracked through the still silence of the pressing air.

Meryl whirled around just in time to see Legato aim his gun at the half-blood—and quickly decided this was no longer a good _or _healthy place for her to be.

So, she turned and ran, all the while fighting the urge to hurl herself to the ground when several more gunshots sounded in the air.

She had the horrible feeling that she was going to be shot!

Thinking quickly, she changed her getaway course to the darkened alley. Better to hide quickly than risk a bullet in the back.

It was nearer; it was safer at that exact time, so Meryl spun around it's corner—slipping slightly—and slammed her back hard up to the wall. Unfortunately, her force and speed was rewarded by a violent bought of coughing, and she tried—unsuccessfully—to stifle the noise lest someone hear her. Muffling her coughs with her sleeve, the petite woman glanced around the dirty alley and began to edge away from the entrance.

It was better to be as far away from the two vampires as she could make herself. Although, creeping in the darkened stench of a grimy alley was not exactly where she wanted to be…

The petite woman sighed in relief as her violent bought of coughs subsided, and she closed her eyes and turned her face skyward. A crack of thunder suddenly shook the buildings, and Meryl found herself praying it wouldn't rain.

But then, as if it couldn't have gotten any worse, a tiny droplet of rain fell down to splat on the dry (for once) stones below her. Not surprisingly (and quite suddenly), a downpour started, not as fierce as the day before, but a good, steady rain. Almost immediately, Meryl found herself shivering and forcing back more coughs.

She pulled her cloak firmly around herself and glanced grudgingly up into the sky with a meaningful scowl.

It was just her luck _this_ alley didn't have overhangs!

Sighing slightly, she sunk down to the filthy ground that was the alley.

Sitting soaked to the bone for the second time in to days, the petite woman was less than pleased. And when the sounds of the fight finally reached her ears, she had the sudden urge to scream in frustration.

Although, that would most likely end in more painful coughs…

Meryl fought back a grimace as gunshots rung blindly around the street, echoing off the tall walls and mingled with shocked and angered yells. She wouldn't have been surprised if several more bloodsuckers had shown up, but two distinct voices speaking harshly to one another above the firing told her it was still the two.

She fought back the unease that threatened to grow to sickness as the thought of the blonde being killed and the blue-haired vampire staring at her once again with those cold, indifferent eyes crept into her mind.

Rain continued to pour down on the petite woman's shivering form, and she tried to block out the sounds with the pattering of the water off the side of the buildings. Gutters were filling, overflowing, letting water pour down and splatter onto the ground and into the sewers. There was nothing but the thundering staccato of the shower…

And just as she was finally getting somewhere, managing to focus her mind on something other that the two men less than two hundred yards from herself, all firing ceased, stopped abruptly and left her wondering what exactly had just happened.

What _had_ happened?

Meryl coughed again, the force racking her body painfully, and a feeling of nausea slowly began building in the pit of her stomach. The back of her neck had begun its rhythmic aching, throbbing painfully. She fought down the pain, concentrating on her thoughts.

She needed to know what had taken place, but didn't dare look around the corner.

Maybe she didn't want to know, she didn't want to know if Vash had been killed. She didn't want to know.

… She_ needed _to know.

Her neck hurt…

Then, her silent pleas were answered. Although not in the way she had hoped.

It ended loudly, and she had to force herself back when her body moved toward the exit.

It all ended with one gunshot and one sickening scream piercing through the rain, meeting her ears with a vengeance that left her mouth dry and blood cold.

And then there was silence. Everything was quite except for the unrelenting rhythm of the rain beating on the cobblestones.

Now she _knew_ someone was dead…

Eyes widened slightly and heart racing wildly, Meryl shifted uneasily on the ground. A great want to slink into the shadows and curl up into a tight ball overtook the short woman, but she stayed still, the sound of her heart beating deafening her, the throbbing in her neck stilling her. She felt paralysed; not like when that vampire had literally frozen her, but so frightened she was painfully stiff. But she wasn't about to move for the fear of being heard.

But who was there to hear her?

She really didn't want to know, but she found thoughts suddenly crowded her mind, pushing and shoving, wanting to be heard. Millions of "what ifs" ran madly in her head, each more demanding than the first and each without and answer.

What if she was found?

But what if she was found by Legato?

What if he was dead, what then?

But what if he _wasn't_ dead, and Vash's fangs and clothes were lying in the rain, the last reminder of a half-blood?

What if he was dead? She had been relying on his all along, hadn't she?

What if Legato was still out to get her?

Meryl's time was spent so thoroughly freaking herself out that she didn't notice when the rain hardened, beating down in hard pellets and running into her eyes, nose and mouth. She didn't notice when the pain on her neck intensified, but faded when her skin had numbed, when the storm had darkened the sky. She didn't notice when the London streets fell into an inky blackness. She didn't notice when the light stopped, and she was plunged into near blackness, colour without light. She didn't even notice when the sound of footsteps invaded her space, drawing nearer, heading slowly toward the alley she sat in.

That is, she didn't notice until her instincts finally kicked back in, and then she was all too aware to her visitor. Her questions came to a grinding halt as the lone steps approached her.

The sound was mingled with the rain, haunting and ominous…

Her mouth was dry by now; she was unable to swallow, unable to wet her lips with the anxiety that she felt.

Meryl's heart pounded loudly in her ears, louder than before. It was near deafening her.

She slipped her hands under her cloak, grappling uselessly for her derringers. After frantic struggling, they came out with a stake in one hand, and a gun in the other. They were her only comfort, the only things she could rely on.

And then she waited, listening to footsteps over the rain. Her heart was pounding, and fear was coursing through her veins. Resisting the urge to shut her eyes and wish it all away, she listened and waited.

The boots sounded as though they were being dragged, and with much effort. She forced herself to focus on the sounds, concentrate on her unknown opponent.

The stride was either incredibly sluggish or extremely forced. It seemed exhausted and tired. He was injured or exhausted.

She didn't know which she preferred. They both seemed fair enough.

Meryl waited, and her traitorous mind fired up once again.

_Don't bother, Meryl…_ Her logical side was warning her, but her thoughts wouldn't listen.

What if it _was_ Legato?

He was going to kill her…

_Stop it, Stryfe!_

What could she do then? She had been helpless before, and she didn't think it was going to change within the time of ten minutes.

Unfortunately, she suddenly realized the footsteps had stopped, and her eyes focused abruptly on the boots facing her. Meryl bit back a scream and gulped her fear down. She hadn't even realized he (whoever _he _was) had entered the alley.

She stared, stake and gun almost forgotten in her sweating hands. The boots (was it just her or did they seem familiar…?) were obviously attached to legs, which meant…

The petite woman gulped and slowly looked up.

Meryl didn't know if she was surprised or relieved to see the face staring down at her huddled form. All she knew was that she certainly wasn't afraid. She had never really been afraid of vampires, and she certainly wasn't apprehensive of the one Milly had called Vash. It was relief of a sort, and it washed over her tense body so pleasantly she almost smiled.

She was still too shaken to smile.

Meryl blinked slowly at the man before her before opening her mouth and saying the first thing that came to mind, "Is… is h-he gone?" She was sure the stutter was only due to the immense cold she was feeling.

The half-blood nodded slightly, a strained look adorning his face in the gloominess, "Yeah…" he answered detachedly.

Eyes widening slightly in mild disbelief, Meryl slipped her stake back in place, but held onto the derringer. How had this half-blood killed a pureblood?? One with mind control, no less!

"You mean he's dead?" she asked boldly for confirmation, and all traces of her stammer gone from her voice.

Vash's eyes took on an incoherent look, and he held a gloved hand down to her before stating quietly, "No."

Meryl pointedly ignored the hand, preferring to stand up on her own, and faced the man with a blank expression, "Then who screamed? I heard a gunshot, quite clearly, too." She crossed her arms, remaining a nonchalant figure while stating the words matter-of-factly.

Vash blinked as though trying to clear his vision, and began staring at the ground by his feet. Without answering, he brought one hand up to touch his side.

The petite woman watched impatiently as the half-blood took his hand away, wincing as if he had been burned. Frowning, Meryl glared. Maybe he hadn't heard…

Rain fell onto the half-blood's hand, washing it clean. Red dribbled steadily down to the stones, gathering before spreading out in the puddles.

The petite woman gasped slightly.

He glanced up, staring at her with what appeared to be panic and confusion. And maybe, was that pain mixed in there too?

Meryl received the look and stepped back slightly, her eyes wide and mouth open slightly. Hadn't she seen this before?

Then, both sets of eyes settled simultaneously on the growing pool of blood gathering quietly and running lazily through the cobblestones' cracks with the help of rain. It seeped around the vampire's feet.

Meryl had almost forgotten about that…the half-blood that was more human than he looked. So human, in fact, that he bled freely—like a mortal.

Vash almost laughed, but his face was too pale and the sound too forced to be considered anything near humorous, "That was me." He stated simply, finally answering her question before staggering to the side slightly, arm covering the wound. He sagged to the wall, leaning heavily on it.

Meryl took a half step toward the man, unsure as he unsteadily righted himself. She waited stiffly as he glanced back at her and forced a sort of weak smile.

"I never caught your name, short girl." And with that said, he teetered dangerously and collapsed forward.

Suddenly finding her arms full of a half-vampire with his head resting limply on her shoulder, the petite woman staggered back slightly. Trying to support his weight _and _hold her exhausted body up at the same time, she was less than pleased.

Setting her teeth firmly (in anger or pain she did not know) and tightening her hold on Vash, she grated out forcefully, "It's Meryl Stryfe, you idiot vampire."

--

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	11. Walking in the Storm

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame 

_dialogue _– **thoughts**

"dialogue" – **speaking**

**--**

Chapter 10

--

"Why the _hell_ did you have to be so heavy…?" Meryl strained voice shot through the hefty downpour, and she slipped on the wet stones paving her path back to her home.

Her face was pale, her mouth drawn and her eyes red, but she continued resiliently through the streets, even with a heavy load such as a fully-grown man. An unconscious man, may I add. Or, an unconscious, fully-grown man who just happened to be half-vampire and was bleeding all over the streets.

But he didn't seem to be running out of the red stuff any time soon.

That, at least, was a good sign. Meryl still had another four blocks to go, and having the man die on her there would be such a waste.

She had dragged the man halfway across London by now, for goodness sakes!

Meryl paused slightly, letting the blonde's tall form lean on her slightly. It was strange, you know. He was indeed unconscious—and bleeding—but she had managed to make him half-walk (with her help) the whole way so far.

Did half dead men still walk?

Or maybe this one was just an exception…

The petite woman was panting heavily, her breath coming out in white puffs that were quickly swept away with the rain. She felt as though she herself was near death, and the way her face was rapidly losing its normal colour, she looked it too. And now, in her half delirious state, her mind was wandering lazily, and she found herself thinking the strangest things.

_Yeah, like how someone so scrawny could weigh so much!_ Meryl spat mentally, resenting her cumbersome load, _It must have something to do with being a vampire…_

And she still couldn't believe it herself. Her, Meryl Stryfe, vampire hunter extraordinaire saving a bloodsucker's life and bringing him into her own house! What was the world coming to?

_It's coming to the point where vampires brutally take over the world and send everyone to bloody and painful deaths before claiming everything as their own, but not until they realized they had cut off their only food source… _Meryl found herself trailing off as her knees began to give out from underneath her, and she straightened up before shaking her head to clear the rain.

Pulling Vash's limp arm securely around her neck, Meryl once again to a firm hold on his coat and spat out some rainwater before continuing on her way.

She suddenly realized she was soaked in blood…

Blood was everywhere, blood attracted things that lived on it, and things that fed upon blood were most usually called vampires around here. The only thing Meryl needed right now was another encounter with a bloodthirsty vampire.

Snorting slightly, Meryl spat more grimy water from her mouth, _At least this half-demon isn't going to sink his fangs in my throat any time soon!_ she thought grudgingly to herself.

In admittance, the hunter felt as though she was about to collapse any moment, and she wasn't sure she would make it the five minutes to her house and manage to get inside without falling over unconscious.

_That's what happens when you go hunting alone and with a cold,_ Meryl berated herself angrily, and let forth another choked cough. Unfortunately, water immediately filled her open mouth, which made her situation even worse, _you get a feeling as though you're about to die _and_ an already half-dead vampire to drag home!_

She caught herself drifting off as the half-blood began slipping from her grasp before grudgingly continuing on her way, determined and all the while wondering why, exactly, she had decided to go out alone. At least with Milly along she would have had some help carrying Vash.

"Damn half-blooded demon bloodsucker!" Meryl cursed again, "You're heavier than you look."

But with no response from the unconscious man but his head lolling drunkenly to one side, she narrowed her eyes. She didn't even know why she was doing this anymore! What it even worth it to risk her life to save this creep?

Well, yes, it was. She used to think that, at least, but right now, she had her doubts.

But with that said, Meryl found herself scowling before she carelessly tripped, causing her feet to stumble weakly and the blonde's prone form to slip from her and land with a splash in the middle of a muddy puddle adorning the slimy cobblestone streets.

The rain persisted, pelting the lone forms mercilessly without plight. Meryl snorted, wobbling slightly on her legs, and bent down to roll the half-blood's body over, his face now thoroughly grimy from the water. And once again, she hauled him up and began dragging him down the street, all the while gasping and wheezing with increasingly short breath.

Yep, she felt as half-dead as person could be without being completely dead. Her legs were moving more mechanically than anything else, having lost the feeling in them long ago, and her neck was cramped from the arm draped carelessly around it. Her hands were almost useless, stiff and frozen, her left having an unfeeling death grip on Vash's arm and the other grasping his coat with deadened fingers.

She could feel her clothes sticking to her small body and weighing her down, although the sensation was rapidly disappearing with much of her conscious thought. The only thing on her mind now was that she only had six houses to go until she could collapse on her front doorstep and search for her house key.

Only six more houses.

The petite woman could have sighed with contentment if she had had the feeling to, and she didn't really see a reason to quite yet anyway.

Instead, she settled for counting the houses as she passed them, Vash's limp body in tow.

At one house, Meryl sighed, her breath a white wisp, and focused her eyes through the downpour to her front door. Only ten more steps until…

Wait…

Who was that sitting on her front steps?

With an umbrella?

Meryl blinked the rain from her eyes, ignoring the sting and took another step, but her legs suddenly hitched up, and the half-blood's arm slipped from her shoulder and his body fell to the street. A pool of blood quickly began to grow beneath him, but the petite woman didn't take notice.

What the hell…?

Meryl watched as the person stood up, flicking what looked to be a cigarette out into the rain. He approached with the umbrella and Meryl stumbled forward slightly.

What was Nick doing here…?

Her legs lost all feeling and the petite woman felt her body fall to the ground. She hit the street without any conscious pain and waited, the silence of the rain surrounding her and pounding her flaccid body.

Wolfwood approached, his umbrella shielding him from the onslaught of water. He stopped at Meryl's side and nudged her side with his boot.

The woman groaned slightly, and Nick grinned slightly.

She wasn't dead, then.

"I hope none of that blood is yours, short girl." He said almost indifferently, the rain pounding his shelter muffling his voice.

She shifted slightly, her breath hoarse, and managed to choke out, "No…that stupid half-blood got himself shot."

And with that said, Meryl felt herself drift into oblivion, the comforting darkness surrounding her mind in a haze and the sounds of rain slowly fading.

--

Meryl was aware of the warmth surrounding her, it was something she hadn't experienced since she was a child, something so nice it was quite hard to forget.

It had been slipping her mind lately.

But she felt it now, comfort in the stillness around her. Her mind was heavy, content to drift aimlessly with no worries. A warm haze in her mind, in her body, covering her like a blanket.

She was slowly waking up, her thoughts becoming affected by the conscious world engulfing her sleeping body.

That was the way she liked it, slow and undemanding, not of late.

Briefly, Meryl wondered the time, but pushed the thought away as the sound of her name being called reached her ears.

Meryl… 

The haze surrounding her dispersed slightly, and Meryl was left feeling slightly cold.

_Meryl…I know you're awake._

Her warmth was fading, and everything was darkening. Her flame was flickering.

_I'm displeased, Meryl…_

Darkness was filling her mind, and her warm flame sputtered feebly.

_Spiders have no place in this world…especially spiders like you…_

She wanted to feel the heat again, but he darkness was cooling, suppressing her.

_You'll die eventually, spider, even if I don't do it first…_

Shadows filled her mind, and she had the sudden urge to wake up, to stop the dream.

_You're marked, spider. I've decided to start by wiping out all of you disgusting hunters beforehand…_

Meryl struggled with the darkness, forcing it away.

_You're going to die, Meryl, face it. You don't have a chance…_

The voice began to fade slightly.

_Die, spider. Die with the rest of your breed._

It faded, whispering of death the whole way. She unconsciously shivered.

_Die!_

Meryl's eyes shot open abruptly and she shot up, her face twisted in horror and her limbs tangled, preventing movement. The petite woman struggled feebly, her restraints pulling and tangling further.

It took her a total of fifty-four seconds to realize she was merely wrapped up in a number up blankets and halfway off her bed, in her room, in her house. She was not cold, but in fact sweating quite heavily, and a fire crackling merrily in her hearth sent a warm glow throughout the room, banishing any shadows that might be lurking.

What had she been so freaked out about, again…?

But by then, it was too late, and the petite woman was sent crashing to the floor with a hollow thud, blankets and all.

Again, she was sent into another fighting match with the bedspread, wrestling her way out of them until the sound of her door swinging open alerted her to anther presence.

Apparently, someone had heard her from downstairs.

Meryl immediately stopped struggling before pulling back the coverings and poking her head almost meekly from under them.

A flustered Milly met her gaze, tall but looking anything but imposing. She recognized fear on her friend's face, and winced slightly when the taller woman let forth a flurry of words probably meaning to express concern, but only succeeded in confusing the smaller woman.

"Oh, sempai! You're finally up! I've been waiting so long, Mr. Priest said to leave you to sleep! You didn't seem to want to wake up, though, and I was so worried, sempai!! I thought you were going to sleep forever, and you looked to pale when Mr. Priest brought me over! I've been here ever since, sempai, caring for Mr. Vash and yourself." She took a step toward Meryl but did not cease her words, "Mr. Vash was in such bad shape, sempai, but he's healing quickly and told me what happened when he found you—well at least what he knew. I can't believe you dragged him all the way here, and with a cold, too! When Mr. Priest told me you were unconscious, I thought for sure you were going to die, sempai. Imagine going outside with a cold, and without me, too! Sempai!! I promised I would go with you, all you had to do was ask! Oh Meryl," Milly looked ready to burst into tears, "you don't know how worried you had us all, even Mr. Vash! You had a fever, Meryl, and your skin was so grey! You looked like death had come and gone already!"

The petite woman blinked, her eyes focusing in from a daze when her partner suddenly halted her flurry of words and a look akin to firmness took over the one of concern.

"Sempai!?" Milly hollered, quite alarmed, "What are you doing out of bed??"

Sighing slightly, Meryl pulled an arm from out of the blankets, "Milly," her voice was slightly rasped, "how long have I been asleep?"

Milly's face softened, and she replied with a smile, "Four whole days, sempai! So promise me you'll never go out with a cold again!"

--

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	12. Conversation in the Bedroom

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame 

_dialogue _– **thoughts**

"dialogue" – **speaking**

**--**

**Chapter 11:**

**--**

"Here sempai, take this, you're fever is still hanging on."

Milly dutifully handed the petite woman a steaming cup of tea before pulling the bedcovers securely up to Meryl's waist—at which the latter sighed in disappointment and exasperation mixed.

Exactly how long had she been awake?

Ten minutes?

And already Milly was acting as though she was sick on her deathbed??

Taking the cup, Meryl set in on her lap, content to stare into the murky liquid's depths while Milly hovered around the room fussing over the slightest details. The taller woman had been adjusting things non-stop to her ultimate satisfaction. Close the window there. Pull the drapes here. Stoke the fire, put in more wood! Open the door, close the door, pile more and more quilts onto an already sweating Meryl!

Really, all she wanted to do was go downstairs and threaten that half-blood until he gave her some damned information! She had already wasted more than four days lying unconscious and she didn't think she needed to misuse any more!

Of course, Milly thought otherwise…

"Now, sempai, drink you're tea. You aren't going to get any better by just staring at it!" the taller woman scolded her partner as the she continued to stare into her tea, making no move to drink it.

Scowling at the tea, Meryl thought dryly, _She's starting to sound like my mother!_

"Sempai? Are you listening to me?" Milly's voice floated across the room from where she was now prodding the wood in the hearth. The fire did nothing but crackle furiously and spit embers at the tall woman.

Turning her scowl upon her self-appointed nursemaid, Meryl replied, "Really, Milly, is all of this necessary? I feel fine! All I want to do is get some answers from Vash."

_Yeah, like who this vampire intent on killing me is! Or maybe why he somehow managed to gather a whole gang of bloodsuckers to rampage the streets trying to run Milly and I down!_

Milly shook her head good naturedly, "Now, now, sempai, that's what my big big brother used to say! He had the flu, said he was fine and insisted on walking around, and it came back ten fold the next day! He was in bed for two weeks, hardly able to move!" she straightened up and smiled, "Do you want that to happen to you?"

Meryl set her tea on her night able, "I don't have the flu, Milly." She pointed out clearly.

Pausing at that, the taller woman thought for a moment, "Well, sempai, a fever _is_ the first sign of a flu!"

"That doesn't mean I can't walk around my own house!" retorted the petite woman loudly, "Besides, I haven't heard of one case of the flu this spring!"

Milly sighed, "That doesn't mean there won't be a flue!" she turned at stern eye upon her partner, "Jeez, sempai, I'd have thought you'd have at least _some_ consideration for your health."

"I do, but I want to get my job done!" the petite woman protested hotly.

"What's that, then?"

"Getting answers! Information!!"

"But sem-"

"Let me out of this bed!"

"Sem-"

"Milly!"

A loud knock on Meryl's door interrupted the two women's bantering, and a two pairs of livid eyes settled on the closed entranceway. And without waiting for an answer to his knock, Wolfwood swung the door open and sauntered in—a cigarette lit between his lips. Then, closing the door lightly behind him, he turned to face the women with a good-natured grin.

Milly made a half-strangled noise as she saw the smoking stick hanging from the priest's mouth, and Wolfwood turned a questioning eye on her, one eyebrow arched delicately. Meryl watched darkly.

"Eh, what's wrong with you?"

Milly bit her lip, "Mr. Priest!" she exclaimed in distress, her hands in her hair, "Don't smoke in here!!"

Cocking both eyebrows at the woman, Wolfwood shrugged with a slight scowl and plucked the cigarette from his mouth before flicking it into the nearby fire. He then proceeded to _humph_, his nose in the air and arms crossed, "Shorty never had a problem with it before." He stated snidely, turning an accusing eye on the small woman under the pile of blankets.

Milly smiled, her usual jovial face back on after the cigarette had been disposed of, "Yes, well, sempai wasn't sick before."

The priest sniffed and turned to glare fully at the petite woman, watching the strained look on her face intensify. She looked as though she had just bitten into a lemon. The priest decided to take pity upon her, and his dark façade instantly cracked.

"Glad to see your up" he grinned at her, "Has the big girl been fussin' over you, or something?"

Slight annoyance immediately lit up on Milly's face, "I am _not_ fussing, am I sempai?" She turned to the woman in the bed, planting her hands firmly on her hips.

Meryl twitched slightly, shying away from the stare she was receiving from her partner, "Well…"

One large lunch and half an hour later found all four occupants of the house crowded into Meryl's small bedroom with the latter sitting dejectedly with bedcovers piled up to her neck and a blazing fire crackling merrily in the hearth.

Obviously, Meryl and Wolfwood had lost the argument with Milly, who had firmly insisted the woman stay in bed. Meryl, however, was intent on getting information from the blonde vampire (who had since taken up residence in her spare room) and demanded she talk to him. The taller woman had then—cheerfully—announced a meeting, and Nick had proceeded to wake the man from his sleep—at which the blonde protested loudly at his sound thrashing—and promptly hauled the vampire upstairs.

Meryl had been less than pleased about letting the half-blood see her in such a state, but she reminded herself that he wasn't much better himself. Eyes blurry, bandages clearly visible under his half opened shirt, a good bruise under his eye, stubble dotting his chin with and hair so chaotic he resembled a dog more than anything else. And then again, it _had_ been her idea to speak to him.

So, Milly and Wolfwood had taken seats, preferring to keep a close eye on the vampire so near their "sick and injured" friend.

That brought you to up to the present time.

Milly cleared her throat slightly, trying to break the thick silence that had since engulfed the room, "Well, Mr. Vash, I'm glad to see you're looking better."

Meryl almost snorted, but restrained herself under her partner's critical eye. If he looked this horrible now, how had he looked four days ago?

Vash managed to grin, casting an offhanded, albeit wary glance at the priest—who was in a foul mood after being prohibited from smoking in Meryl's bedroom—and laughed slightly, "Well, I feel much better, too. I'll have to repay you some time."

Smiling despite the almost identical glares the blonde was receiving by the remaining occupants of the room, Milly shook her head slightly, "Oh no, Mr. Vash. You'd have to thank sempai and Mr. Priest, they were the ones who got you to the house and patched you up."

"Ah, well, I guess I'll have to show gratitude them, then." He nodded to the priest with a smile, and sobered slightly before nodding and casting Meryl an incomprehensible look.

It didn't go unnoticed by the petite woman, but she chose to ignore it, to pretend it had not existed. Something about his statement had rubbed her the wrong way, in the first place. After all, she had dragged him half way across London and _that_ was all he had to say for himself? She was allowing a vampire to stay in her house, for goodness sakes!

The half-blood started again, not wasting any more time, "I understand someone wants information?" he glanced around the room, grinning, "I can say I wouldn't mind knowing what's going on myself."

Wolfwood huffed airily, "That makes two of us." He stated dryly, narrowing his eyes at the two partners.

Catching his irritation, Milly smiled apologetically, "Sorry, Mr. Priest, but I didn't want to say anything without sempai's permission, and she was asleep."

Wolfwood threw his hands up into the air, "Why is it that everyone leaves me out of these things?? I give you all the information anyone needs and you proceed to ignore me!" the priest sniffed, slightly offended by the tall woman's remark, "I demand some respect from you people!"

Meryl growled slightly. "Be quite, priest. You're giving me a damn headache." She met Nick's irritated glare with one of her own.

Vash had watched the exchange with a bit of guardedness, but finally decided to interrupt before it got ugly. Clearing his throat slightly and shifting on his seat, the half-blood cut off the retort coming from the priest's mouth, "Why don't we start from the beginning, so everyone knows what has been happening around here."

The suggestion was taken without protest and immediate order was restored to the crowded little room. However, a nagging in the back of Meryl's mind made her uneasy. She still hadn't told anyone besides Milly of the "K" on her neck, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to. She had almost forgotten about it, and it hadn't been bothering her lately…

Still…

Maybe it had been too long already…

Glancing at Meryl, and then over to Vash, Milly stated with an ever-present smile, "I think it all started with you two, sempai, Mr.Vash." she folded her hands in her lap and settled down into her large chair.

At that comment, the half-blood chuckled slightly. It sounded nervous, and the petite woman seated on her bed cast an overly aggravated glare at the blonde man.

"Be quiet, you idiot." Meryl snapped haughtily, crossing her arms and waiting for the vampire to settle down, "As Milly said, it started when I was going over to Nicholas's house for a meeting with him and Milly and broom-head over there decided he needed to kill someone to quench his disgusting thirst for human blood!" Meryl finished, glaring at the occupants of the room as if daring them to argue.

The remaining three sat in a slightly stunned silence before Vash spoke up, outrage evident in his voice.

"It was your fault you were out at night, shorty!" his aqua marine eyes narrowed, "People should know better than to wander around at night, especially women!" the blonde man glared at the petite woman, who in her turn leaned forward in rage.

As the short woman made a move to jump out of her bed, Milly was by her side in a moment. Grabbing hold of her small partner, she pulled the hunter back down and piled more blankets onto her. Fully restrained but still angry, the petite woman shot daggers at the vampire, who was now looking smug and superior.

"Who do you think I am, broom-head?!" she growled, "I was armed, and I know how to take care of scum like you! I could have killed you if I wanted!" satisfied with her words, Meryl settled herself back down into her covers, arms crossed and a haughty air about her.

Casting one last glare at the woman, Vash turned his head and refused to look at her, a slight pout adorning his face. It made him look like a child.

Midst it all, Wolfwood looked on, an unimpressed and slightly bored expression adoring his shaggy face.

Damn, this was going to be a long day…

--

Three hours and countless arguments, headaches and six near-fights later, all four (still) sat in Meryl's bedroom. Milly had moved to take a seat beside Meryl, occasionally restraining the small woman as she made moves toward the usually complacent and smirking half-blood. Wolfwood sat silently, brooding; content he had finally been told the whole story.

It was now five in the afternoon. The sun was setting, the streets were emptying and Vash had just began to tell the three companions what he knew about the vampire who had been stalking Meryl's dreams and life the past week.

Of course, only Meryl knew that. The blue eyed man in her dreams. Not to mention the mark adorning the back of her neck. She had briefly wondered if anyone had noticed it while she had been unconscious.

She doubted it. No one had mentioned it, so she wasn't about to say anything.

Well, not yet, anyway…

So, here they were, listening intently to the half-blood who had retained all the information Meryl needed. Everything—she was sure—she needed to know. And the best part was that he was completely willing to share it with them.

Well, that was what the priest, and the two women thought.

Vash, however, knew otherwise.

It would be highly dangerous to tell them he was a brother—a blood relative—to the vampire who had been trying to kill Meryl. He had already seen the short girl on a rampage and wasn't keen on provoking a negative reaction. She might feel it obligatory that she shoot him on the spot!

It wouldn't be smart to tell them everything he knew of his brother's plans, either. Too much information at once could lead to trouble. And, really, he wanted to know what his brother was doing too.

He had never before taken so much time in picking out a victim and killing it…

So, he simply improvised.

"I've met him once or twice, and I know who he is. I don't think any vampire doesn't know who he is." Stated the half-blood carelessly in answer to Milly's "Who is he?"

Milly's smile widened at his answer, "That explains how you know this Legato man, right? He's in league with the vampire who is after Meryl?"

Nodding, Vash replied, "He's a henchman, and a dangerous one at that."

The taller woman was about to voice another question when Meryl cut in, "So, what's his name? Who is he and what does he want??"

Blinking slightly at the petite woman, the blonde's brow creased slightly, "His name is Knives." He paused slightly before continuing, "He's the ruler of Purebrood, son of Lord and Lady Saverem and wants nothing more than to kill every human on the planet."

That caught her attention. Meryl's head snapped up, and her smoky eyes settled on the half-blood across the room. She stared.

_Saverem…?_

She watched the man carefully as Milly went on to ask another question. He betrayed no sign that he had made some sort of mistake when he mentioned Lord and Lady Saverem.

Saverem…

Where had she heard that before…?

It sounded so familiar…

"—Isn't that right, sempai?" Milly's cherry voice interrupted her thoughts.

Blinking rapidly, Meryl focused on her partner, "Pardon? Sorry, I didn't hear you, Milly."

Unfazed, Milly repeated, "I said, I think it's a little late, and we should have dinner before it gets too dark out and Mr, Priest and me have to leave, right sempai?" she waited patiently for her partner's answer.

Meryl glanced outside. Her partner was right. It was dark once again, but the sky looked clear enough.

It wasn't going to rain tonight.

"Okay, Milly, it sounds like a good idea." Her smoky grey eyes trailed over to the half-blood, who was now staring absently into the fire, "Vash can tell us more in the morning, right, _Mr.Vash_?" she put an emphasis on the Mr and watched at the blonde glanced up, startled from his daze.

Briefly, their eyes met before the blonde glanced away again.

"Sure." The vampire said.

Nodding and not noticing anything unusual, Milly stood up, "I'll make up some spaghetti and warm up that sauce from a few nights ago, sempai." She turned to Wolfwood, "Would you help me, Mr. Priest?"

Nodding absently, Wolfwood filed out of the room with Vash in tow.

He had watched the whole discussion, digested the information and rolled it over in his head.

Then he had come to a conclusion: Vash was obviously hiding something. He was probably lying, too.

Although he didn't know the reason, he was sure the blonde had good motivation for it.

Vash didn't seem like the deceptive type, and the priest doubted he could do evil even if he tried.

And he hadn't missed Meryl's startled look after Vash had stated whom vampire's parents were, what his name was and what he wanted to accomplish.

_Wonder what's got the short girl so tensed up…_ Wolfwood thought absently and followed Milly into the kitchen.

--

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	13. Someone in the House

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame 

_dialogue _– **thoughts**

"dialogue" – **speaking**

**--**

**Chapter 12**

**--**

_It was dark, so dark. Everything was inky, pure black with no light. _

_It was cold._

_She didn't want to be here…but…_

_…How had she gotten here? She couldn't remember._

_One minute she was…_

_…where had she been, again? Someplace warm, someplace safe? She didn't know anymore…_

_All she knew was that she was here now. Here…_

_It was dark and she was running, her cloak flapping wildly, loudly behind her. _

_Running from what? _

_To where?_

_There was no moon in this place, but still she could make out where she was going._

_There were trees in the darkness; she knew they were there. It was just so dark. Silence engulfed her, but her heavy breathing warded it off, the pounding of her heart a deafening thump in her chest. _

_The noise warned the inky, thick blackness not to come any closer…_

_There were footsteps, cracking…_

_Was there something behind her?_

_Yes, she could sense it its presence, its feet moving quickly, lightly on the forest floor._

_A forest._

_Trees whizzed quickly past her moving form, or were the trees the ones really moving?_

_No, she was the one running._

_Running from what? To nowhere? In a place where there was no moon?_

_The trees and bushes cleared, thinned into a field. _

_It was so dark._

_She could see…_

_How could she see in this darkness, though? _

_This blackness all around her?_

_The field was neat; the grass was trimmed, short, and tough. She looked back into the inky darkness. She could see it jump into the field. Cloaked in black, it was perhaps darker than the night. _

_What was it??_

_Why wouldn't it leave??_

_She didn't know, but she did know she had to get away…_

_But it was so dark, and she didn't know where she was…!_

_Wait, what was that??_

_Eyes._

_Cold, blue eyes._

_Hating blue eyes that glared out from the darkness…_

_Just looking at them made her feel cold, colder than she already was. Plunged into a bath of freezing water…_

_She looked forward._

_Too late._

_There it was, standing there, staring hatefully at her. A mere shadow in the pale light._

_A mere shadow that held so much anger…she stopped abruptly, wanting to get away._

_She turned, but there it was again, icy blue eyes glaring manically out at her._

_He was clothed in a dark cloak and hood._

_Wait._

_He…?_

_Her breathing too loud in her ears, she turned again…_

_…searching frantically for a way out…_

_He was there, staring._

_She needed to get away!_

_But he moved, walking toward her._

_Blue eyes surrounded her, crushing her mind and filling her with hate._

_It hurt…!_

_She whirled, running away, coldness engulfing her._

_But he was there, staring at her, glaring at her._

_She backed away, avoiding the eyes…_

_He stepped forward, pushing his hood back._

_She could see his shadow on the field, tall, imposing._

_It was so cold; she didn't want to look at him. She turned; ready to run, but he confronted her._

_Even in the darkness, even by the dim light originating from nowhere, she could see his face…_

_It scared her._

_It was too familiar._

_…It looked like Vash's…_

_Vash…was he…?_

_No, it couldn't be…_

_She tried to yell, tried to get away, but those icy, hating blue eyes held her._

_Vash didn't have blue eyes…He didn't hate her…_

_She wanted to run, she needed to get away from him!_

_She did, ran across the rough grass, the stalks hurting her feet._

_Her bare feet…_

_She dared to look back, dared to see him again…_

_He wasn't there._

_She turned forward…_

_The ground before her suddenly let away, leaving nothing but air, nothingness. _

_A cliff…_

_She screamed as she fell, down into darkness._

_She shut her eyes tight, wishing to be away…_

Meryl awoke with a start, jolting up from her bed with a shock so great she almost fell forward. Gulping at the air frantically, her wide eyes took in her surroundings with panic. A cold sweat coated her body, leaving her shivering, frightened.

She felt alone, in a panic.

Meryl's heart raced wildly, but calmed considerably when she realized she was in her room.

She closed her eyes and fell back onto her pillow, clutching at her heart and trying to slow her erratic breathing. Only then did she find the time to smile at her stupidity.

What kind of a fool was she, anyway?

It had been a nightmare, after all. What grown up woman was afraid of nightmares?

She had had it many times before, she should be used to it by now!

_Used to a highly strange dream that reoccurred but seems to be slightly different every time I have it._ Meryl corrected herself, sighing loudly and opening her eyes.

Either way, she wouldn't be getting back to sleep any time soon.

Taking one last deep breath, Meryl slipped her cold body from under her covers and adjusted her nightgown—a simple, large shirt—before setting her feet onto the cold floor. Then, standing up, she padded silently to her closet and rummaged around for her slippers.

She came out with a long robe and her favourite, simple slippers that she had gotten from Milly two years ago. Letting the flowing robe warm her shoulders, the petite woman pulled the sash tight around her middle before quietly exiting the room.

Only when she closed her bedroom door behind her and stood staring down the dark hallway before her did Meryl become nervous, and she stayed perfectly still for a moment, listening to the house, before stepping silently and cautiously down the hallway.

After all, she didn't want to wake Vash, now did she??

_Hah!_ her traitorous mind laughed at her, _Like he would hear you anyway. Face it, Stryfe, you're scared of your own house!_

She tried to force the thoughts out of her head as she padded quietly down the hall, pausing cautiously at her washroom before slipping past and glancing back, just for assurance.

Meryl wished she had lit a candle.

Upon reaching the stairs leading down to her living room, kitchen and the spare room a half-blooded vampire slept in she stopped and stared.

Down, in the inky blackness of below, she was almost certain she saw something move…

Meryl fought back the urge to run back to her room, and took a deep breath to rid herself of her heart pounding loudly in her ears. How the hell was she supposed to hear anything when her heart was deafening her?

Gulping somewhat nervously, the petite woman pulled the collar of her robe higher up on her neck and bravely took the first step down the stairs. Glancing back, and then quickly forward, she took her second step, wondering fervently why she hadn't just stayed in her room…

Wait…who was this speaking?

Meryl Stryfe??

_Since when have I been afraid of the dark, of what sneaks around in it? For gods sakes! This is my damned house!_

Straightening herself considerably, Meryl managed to glare down into the darkness.

She descended the steps without another thought on the matter, and made a beeline for her kitchen.

Since she was down here, Meryl was determined to make herself a cup of tea, and maybe she would check to see of Vash was still here. It would be just her luck if he had run out in the middle of the night. And she really wasn't in the mood to chase him around London again.

Reaching up to the cupboard above the sink, she searched around for her kettle in the dimness. The only light was from the streetlamp blaring through the kitchen window, and it wasn't all that great when you were trying to make tea.

Finally fed up with the lack of light, the petite woman huffed loudly to herself and decided to hunt around her living room for a candle and matches. Closing the cupboard soundlessly, she stalked off toward the interconnecting living room.

That was when she heard it.

Just a slight shuffle, but a loud one.

It was awkward.

Freezing in mid-step, Meryl quickly turned at placed her back against her kitchen wall near the entrance to her living room.

There it was again, more shuffling. This time it was accompanied by a slight bang, though.

It—whoever _it_ was—sounded terribly clumsy.

The petite woman listened with a mix of emotions. Surprise, fear, curiosity, a range of suspiciousness, but most of all anger.

How dare whoever was in there break into _her_ home!

Suddenly blinking, Meryl relaxed somewhat. She almost laughed, but restrained herself.

It was probably just Vash, anyway!

_Yes, well, lets just see what he has to say for himself! Snooping and stumbling around my house like that!_ Meryl thought steely to herself, and pushed forward angrily from her hiding stop.

She didn't notice the shadow behind her as she entered the living room with murder written all over her face.

The petite woman regarded her dim room darkly and with a scowl on her face. Ready to confront the half-blood and give him a piece of her mind, she was surprised when an empty space faced her.

It was dark, deserted and devoid of anything looking remotely like Vash.

Frowning slightly, she stepped further into the room, unaware of the shadows creeping up on her. Now where had he gone? She didn't understand it… you had to enter through the kitchen to get to and from the living room, so where had the blasted half-blood run off? Maybe she had just imagined it…Yes, that was right, she hadn't heard anything.

It had been her overactive imagination at work trying to freak her out.

There had been nothing at all.

Meryl, satisfied with her self-explanatory answer, turned to leave.

She didn't see the threatening shadow until it had knocked her roughly from her feet, grabbed her up by the neck, and pinned her firmly up against the wall.

The petite woman choked slightly, her hands coming up to grasp the one set around her neck.

A brief thought that her neck had been having way too much manhandling the past week passed briefly through her mind before being cut off. The hand tightened, and she was severed from her air supply.

She couldn't see its face…let alone guess who it was…

There was hot breath on her neck, brushing lightly over her chilled skin…

She was going to die…!

Meryl squeezed her eyes tight, willing everything to go away, wishing it to disappear.

She was too tired, to weak to be fighting off bloodsuckers in the dead of night!

She had just recovered and once again, she was being attacked.

Its breathing was ragged, steamy…

She had never noticed vampires had warm breath; hot and humid like that of the living…

Meryl found herself slipping away once again…

Something small inside of her head was calling to her, though. It was pricking her mind like a thorn, demanding to be noticed. She found herself ignoring it, anyhow.

She was too occupied with the feeling of dying to care less.

The petite woman was only briefly aware of the hiss resounding around her, a telltale sign her father had taught her never to ignore…

The voice was shouting now…

It was loud…

Meryl's eyes snapped open abruptly, glistening in the darkness, widening in realization.

And then there was one swift, sharp, resounding scream.

--

A/N: Yes, I know I'm very evil, but that doesn't mean I'll take mercy on you all!

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	14. Vampires in the Night

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame 

_dialogue _– **thoughts**

"dialogue" – **speaking**

**--**

Chapter 13

--

Meryl let her grip on the vampire's wrists fall away the same moment her bloodcurdling scream seemed to shake her house. Then, still feeling half conscious and acting completely of instinct, she sent her knee straight into the bloodsucker's chest.

Truthfully, she didn't know what the point of screaming bloody murder was, but it sure seemed to distract the winded vampire while she set about thrashing like a madwoman. Of course, she guessed that he was already shocked to the point where he couldn't see straight; so all she had to do was escape before the bloodsucker regained his senses.

Briefly, and in the darkened depths of her mind, she hoped her show of loudness had awakened the half-blood slumbering in her spare room.

The petite woman found herself feeling resentful instead of lost, and she struggled to untangle herself from the vampire's grasp. For god's sakes, the man was just down the hall and hadn't even noticed the vampire lurking in her house!!

Spurted on by her sudden burst of anger, Meryl lashed out at her dazed attacker. Seething with fury, her hands caught her assailant by its neck, and the petite woman began struggling to remove its face—and fangs—from her personal space. This bloodsucker was too close for her comfort.

And being bitten would do nothing to help her situation.

After all, she_ had_ no stakes.

No weapons whatsoever.

Meryl figured she was as good as dead.

But the petite woman immediately found herself revising her statement when she caught sight of the fire poker to her side, hanging neatly with her shovel and tongs. Thinking quickly for her life, Meryl brought another knee up to catch the wheezing vampire in the chest. She struggled with its head, forcing its face from her neck.

Finally—and to her luck—she was instantly dropped, and the short woman wasted no time in pouncing for her fire poker.

And once it was gasped firmly in her hand, Meryl steadily backed up so she was facing her opponent. She stood with her shoulders heaving and fire poker readied.

About then was when she realized, hardly visible in the pale moonlight and golden lamplight, that there was more than one vampire.

_Many_ more than one…

She was facing six bloodsuckers. Unarmed with only a fire poker…

Without aid and a not a stake to spare, no less a silver bullet.

Briefly, just before her thoughts shifted to the battle at hand, she wondered how she had gotten into such a ridiculous situation. In her own house! In her own living room! What sort of fool was she?

_An armed fool, Stryfe._

The petite woman's smoky eyes narrowed, flashing in the dim light and focused on the task before her.

Sliding down into a fighter's stance, she brandished the poker like a sword, and waited patiently for the first to come forward.

Now, if only her fire poker was heated…

Her thoughts were interrupted as the group shifted, and Meryl readied herself as the first vampire moved. It was, silent, graceful—catlike. She could tell immediately it was a female.

Truthfully, she hadn't faced so many at one time before, but at least she had time to practice.

The shadow seemed to dance up to her, uncaring and confident.

_Okay, Meryl,_ She told herself, watching the un-dead, _aim for the head and heart. Once you have them all down get your stakes and finish the job!_

The hunter raised her poker, ready to strike as her attacker came at her.

_Swing to the right…!_

The vampire almost easily evaded her swing, and Meryl stumbled back as the woman sent a fist flying toward her.

_Duck-!_

Too late.

A sharp pain exploded in her chest as the vampire's fist sent the air from her lungs, leaving the petite woman effectively winded. The strain of her lingering illness and weakness combined with the sudden strain of the fight finally got to her, and Meryl was left nauseous, doubled over in pain and gasping for breath. Although, it wasn't until someone dealt a sharp, effective blow to the back of her head did her world start spinning, her vision blurring. And then she saw rather than felt the floor come up to meet her quite suddenly, and the impact of her head on the hardwood left hersight dizzywith bright lights.

For a moment, she wondered if she had gone blind…

However, as Meryl was caught up in her rather delirious, painful and utterly confusing comatose state, she was able to decipher the ringing in her ears from the loud bangs going off around her.

Were those the loud sounds of…gunfire?

Of course, her mind was more focused of the pain in her stomach and the sudden nausea she was feeling than the reality moving around above her. The petite woman was aware of the shots going off, the bodies hitting the floor, the screams and yells, but she really couldn't bring herself to care, much less wonder.

She was in too much pain…

And after just _one _punch…?

Faintly, in the back of her mind, she was aware that wasn't anything like her usual self, but she pushed it off as another wave of pain swept through her tired body.

Maybe that stupid bloodsucker had hit something vital; maybe she had cracked a rib?

_Damned sickness…I didn't think I was this weak…_

Meryl contented to listen, curled up on the floor as the gunfire suddenly halted, leaving her in a dead silence, nothing but the feeling of pain to keep her mind occupied. Nothing but the darkness of night to comfort her.

She felt as thought she was dying.

The sudden urge to groan and moan in pain, scream for all she was worth filled the petite woman's being, but she restrained herself. Vaguely, she was aware of who had held the gun she had been listening to, who had downed all six bloodsuckers while she lay huddled like a crying child on the floor. She knew, and she didn't dare show any weakness before him.

She'd be damned if she would show pain in front of Vash, a half-blood vampire.

_But,_ her mind protested loudly with her logic, _It hurts so much…!_

Meryl decidedly ignored her usually helpful thoughts and encased herself firmly within in her walls of pain.

She wasn't quite sure why she still felt so hurt, and why the throbbing wasn't receding, but she would have given anything in the world to make it end. The petite woman wasn't even aware of Vash's presence in the room anymore, his tall form looming over her. She wasn't concentrating on the bodies littering her floor, or wondering if they were alive or not. She was grimacing in torment, unsure why her whole being now seemed to radiate with pain.

And why was her neck burning, hot and throbbing as if her skin had been melted by fire?

Meryl couldn't feel the tears gather in her closed eyes, she didn't even notice when they began to slide down her pale cheeks.

But the sudden shock of a light hand on her shoulder brought Meryl back to reality, though, and the petite woman's eyes quickly snapped open, fogged by gathering tears and pain.

She was suddenly all to conscious of the blonde half-blood by her side, and she fought to cover up her own tears. Pure instinct powered by something else—maybe resentment—led her to unfurl herself and send an angry fist in his direction.

Her efforts were rewarded by a yelp of pain, and the blonde sprawled out with a hand to his throbbing nose.

Meryl wasn't sure when she stopped experiencing the pain, when the burning in her neck subsided slightly and eased to a low throb, but she was entirely grateful and set about masking her earlier distress as she turned to Vash—who was cradling his head and whimpering like a lost puppy.

Gathering herself from the floor and straightening her shoulders, she sent a glare at the man, "Be quiet, broom head." Her sharp statement overrode her hidden confusion and slight aching.

The half-blood quieted somewhat, reverting to holding his head and regarding the small woman with a wary eye as she surveyed the room.

Meryl frowned at the first thing she noticed.

Groaning. Muffled moans of pain.

Her midnight visitors where anything but dead. There were no ashes and remains of clothes piled messily by twin front fangs.

The petite woman frowned, retaining her mask and turning a disapproving glare on the cowering half-blood. Smoky grey eyes narrowed, boring into the vampire's aqua ones.

"You didn't kill them?" Meryl demanded of the man in a voice lined dangerously with outrage, "I _know_ it was you who shot them, so why didn't you get rid of the scum?"

Vash winced, pulling himself from the hardwood. In an instant, his demeanour changed, and his hard expression was clearly visible in even the darkness, "You expected me to kill them?" even in his own ears, his voice sounded harsh, "Is this the thanks I get?"

Meryl bristled at the tone in the vampire's voice, and her lips narrowed dangerously, "Thanks for what, idiot? Inviting a horde of demons into my home?"

Both knew what she said was not true, but Meryl preferred to ignore that fact.

The petite woman continued in the silence hanging over the two, "Usually, when vampire's decide they want to steal your life, you kill them before they have the chance!" Her teeth ground together in a vain attempt to vent her frustration, "If you are going to stay in my house, I'll expect you to live by my rules!" Meryl finished vehemently, scowling at the man.

She waited, trying to block out the continuous moans from the vampires surrounding her.

Vash stood stonily, his earlier mask of hurt had long since dissolved into nothing but air. Meeting her fiery, angered eyes, he replied evenly, "I refuse to kill them, no one has the right to take the life of another." He remained motionless; "After all," he gazed on at the petite woman, "Would you murder a human?"

That last statement caught her, and the two stayed in silence for a moment. They stood in a standoff, both glaring at the other, before Meryl let out a loud _humph!_ and crossed her arms as she turned away.

Vash continued despite the small woman's defeat, "Besides, I can leave if you want. It's not as though I _have_ to stay here…" he trailed off suggestively.

Inwardly seething, she replied grudgingly, "Have it your way, then." She cast a sidelong glance at Vash through the darkness, "Just get them out of here before morning, I don't need more bloodsuckers in my house!" she nudged an injured vampire with her foot, and was rewarded with another groan. A pool of blood that was not its own grew on the hardwood.

She sniffed in disgust, "This blood better not stain my floor…" she muttered, and threw a sharp glance at the half-blood watching her, "I want no trace of them left by dawn, you hear me?" she felt her threat fell upon deaf ears, but shot daggers at the man just for good measure.

And with that, she turned to exit the room, avoiding the bodies strewn throughout her living room. Ashes, she figured, would have been easier to clean up, and then she could have traded in the teeth for money.

She could have used more pay…

Shaking her head, the petite woman entered her kitchen. She hadn't ever believed the man had silver bullets in his gun…what vampire would? To kill his own kind?

She had no idea how the half-blood had done it, but he had brought down six vampires without a scratch and with one gun.

_Crazy bastard half-blooded demon…_ Meryl's subconscious started up again, healthily cursing the vampire with words she wouldn't dare utter out loud.

She would never be caught with a mouth like Nick's…

"Hey, short girl." Vash's voice interrupted her thoughts.

She paused—prickling at the name—but did not turn, "What?" she demanded, frowning slightly. Sll she wanted to do right now was sleep…

The blonde grinned even though she couldn't see. It was more to reassure himself anyway, "Thanks, I guess I owe you another one."

Meryl shook her head, turning slightly before stopping herself and stating sharply, "You don't owe me anything."

And with that, she left, leaving a room with seven vampires, six of which were wounded and one of which was troubled.

And she never had managed to make herself that cup of tea…

--

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	15. Out in the Open

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame 

_dialogue _– **thoughts**

"dialogue" – **speaking**

**--**

Chapter 14

--

Sometime past dawn, when light had flooded her room to the point where it was impossible to sleep any longer in restful peace, Meryl had pulled herself reluctantly from her bed and shuffled sleepily downstairs. Her night had not been pleasant, after being attacked by six full-fledged vampires and later, while in her room, hearing and seeing things that were not there.

She figured everything that had been happening was finally getting to her, and she could say she didn't like it one bit.

Vash's bumbling bangs and thumps as he was cleaning her living room had ended not long after her initial encounter, and the petite woman had taken to watching the individual, injured bloodsuckers slink with defeat into the darkness like beaten dogs.

Just gone to lick their wounds, Meryl had convinced herself.

They would be back for more in no time.

Vampires mended quickly, which explained Vash's quick healing process and full mobility after just five days after being shot (fatally to any mere human) by Legato. It seemed as though the half-blood, however intent on living like a human, couldn't ever escape his true heritage.

Meryl yawned loudly, setting her full kettle onto the stove to boil. Tea had always calmed her nerves and managed to wake her up from any sleepiness lingering after the night was over. She had been drinking it since she was a child.

It was more of a habit to drink it now, just like Nick and his cigarettes.

Smothering another yawn, the petite woman glanced up at her clock. It was ticking away happily above her stove, reading nine on the dot. She was lucky it wasn't one of those annoying cuckoo clocks, the kind where the bird chirped the number of hours at every change. Milly had inherited one from her great uncle, and it managed to annoy Meryl to no end with it's incessant chattering.

Pushing those thoughts from her head, she made her way toward her table. Dropping heavily into one of her kitchen chairs surrounding her modesty small table, Meryl rested her head on her arms to wait for her kettle to whistle. Her neck was throbbing painfully, and she was sure dark bruises would show their faces no later than noon that day. She could feel them forming.

They were a reminder to her night's activities.

It was then, in her half-doze and peaceful morning atmosphere created for her own self-indulgence, did Meryl notice the loud, horrible, unbearable snores emanating from her living room.

And, while sitting and listening to the noises, she felt her eyebrow begin twitching with annoyance.

_I _hate_ mornings…_

Here she was, trying to rest her pounding, heavy, aching head after a night of no sleep and that insufferable half-blooded, idiot blonde vampire was snoring away in a blissful slumber unaware to the pain he was causing the remaining occupant of the house!

Now how had she managed to miss that?

Was she going deaf, or what?

The snoring continued, and Meryl—somewhat reluctantly—pulled her head from its cosy resting place and shuffled her way out of her kitchen.

Now she was intent on making the Vash's life a living hell for disturbing her peaceable lull.

Her thoughts were feeling bitter this morning,_ Stupid demon, disturbing my morning after ruining my night!_ Meryl's jaw was set in agitation, and she made her way toward her living room.

But she completely halted her vengeful progress when she came upon the scene before her.

Now, not only had Vash mysteriously ended his bout of horrible snores when she had entered, but the sight of the blonde sprawled ridiculously across her sofa, one arm hanging limply over the side while the other tucked under his chin with his face so relaxed, it was hard for even herself to launch into a string of tyrannical yells.

That, and the fact he looked absolutely too peaceful to be disturbed by her hand sent the harsh words that had been ready on her tongue to die like wind to a candle flame.

So, Meryl opted to settle herself down in one of her chairs and simply watch the man.

Well, vampire, if you insisted on being specific.

And she had to admit she had never taken the time—or liberty—to discover a vampire's name, to interact with one as though it was an equal, something relatively like a human. She had never thought to learn of a vampire's life before she killed it, put it out of its misery.

Meryl was sure they did something other than kill and eat. Maybe they had a life, someone who cared for them, someone who would worry if they were out too late. Did they have companions, friends, or were they merely independent, only travelling in groups because it was easier to kill their prey?

Meryl gazed on at Vash, watching his face with a somewhat distant eye. A lock of blonde hair fell neatly out of place with his steady breathing, and she blinked, resisting the urge to stand up and remove it from his face. Instead, she contented to simply watch, thinking absently while her tea brewed.

_Did_ they have family?

Vash had said Knives, the ruler at Purebrood, was son of Lord and Lady Saverem…

_And that name seems so familiar…_

So, that meant that Knives had parents.

But did they care for him like humans did their own child? Did they love and worry, and raise him, or did they leave him to defend for himself?

Meryl watched as Vash sniffed slightly, his fingers flexing and his brow furrowing.

The petite woman wondered aimlessly, _Are vampire's capable of love, even? They are dead, but yet they are able to reproduce, either by conceiving a child or turning a human. If they are dead, they can still have feelings, though…_

Vash, she was sure, held emotion.

_So, maybe only half-bloods, those created from human _and _vampire blood, have feelings, can experience friendship and pain, maybe even something like love…?_ She wondered carefully as she studied Vash.

He seemed completely human to the untrained and unknowing eye.

In fact, if she didn't already know what he was, and was just another person having a conversation with him, she was sure she couldn't guess it. He looked human, acted human. Meryl smiled somewhat, _Hell, he even eats like a human, although much more than normal._

And it was true. He had eaten everything Milly had placed in front of him the day before, without protest. He had resembled a starved man introduced to the luxury of food after a year of mouldy bread and water.

_Or human blood…_ Meryl suddenly reminded herself, somewhat grimly.

_Maybe he can eat food, human food and have the same effect drinking blood, _the woman mused thoughtfully, _That could save a lot of people pointless heartache._

But even as she thought it, she knew it probably wasn't true.

She didn't know anything about vampires and how they lived, only that they fed on human blood, either killing their victim or allowing him or her to be turned.

Meryl frowned slightly as the realization came upon her.

She had been tracking, killing and making a profit from bloodsuckers since she was a teenager, and she knew nothing about them. True, she knew more than the average person, but not enough to be truly useful.

Sighing, Meryl turned her gaze back onto Vash.

He looked so human, so relaxed, maybe a little pale, but anything but a vampire.

She was sure he was as human as anything in this world, the creature that was so close in the genetic line that he easily fool anyone…

But it was at then, at that precise moment that her kettle's piercing scream, a high pitched whistle reached her ears, and Meryl shot up abruptly without a second thought and ran hurriedly to the kitchen.

Meryl just hoped it hadn't woken up the half-blood and he had somehow noticed her staring at him.

She didn't know if she could live with herself if a half-blood, a vampire, thought she was some sort of creep!

Ten minutes later found Meryl happily pouring herself a cup of steaming tea, waiting patiently for the half-blood to wake up so she could get started with her day. Milly and Wolfwood were due at her house sometime around noon for another discussion with the vampire.

She didn't notice when the latter had woken up, yawned himself awake and had made his way, sleepily, into her kitchen.

In fact, she was just pouring some cream into her tea when Vash's voice chirped out from behind her, nearly resulting in a broken teacup and steaming tea all over the floor. However, her only surprise was shown when she started slightly, a few drops of cream splattering neatly onto the counter, nothing more.

"Morning, short girl."

His tone reminded her almost too much of Milly, but she quickly pushed that thought away with a response.

"Good morning, broom head." She replied curtly, "Glad to see you're finally up." Meryl set the cream down and made her way across the kitchen for the sugar.

A brief silence enveloped the two, in which Meryl found the elusive jar and was now rummaging for a teaspoon.

"Did you clean up my living room last night, or does it still have bodies lying around it, bleeding on my floor?" Meryl asked, her voice rather cold and snappish, but she figured it was a good idea not to let him know she had been watching him while he slept.

A loud_ humph_ came from the half-blood, and she could imagine him crossing his arms indignantly at her proposition, "I did my job very well, I'll have you know." He paused to yawn, "And your precious hardwood _floor _is perfectly fine." He sounded slightly offended, and the petite woman smothered a smile.

Keeping her back to him, Meryl busied herself with measuring off her sugar, "That's good to know," she replied almost absently, and then stopped, a sudden thought coming to mind. She turned slightly, glancing at the sleepy man, "Would you like a cup of tea? I already have the water boiled."

Her offer sounded too pleasant even in her ears, and the petite woman felt herself almost relieved when he refused.

"Err…no thanks, I don't drink tea…" he trailed off slightly, and Meryl shrugged, turning back to her drink.

So, he ate spaghetti but didn't drink tea? At the least to say, she found that quite amusing.

"Fine by me." She replied, spooning sugar into the hot drink.

All the more for her.

But Vash spoke again, "Wait a second..." The man's voice held a note that somehow managed to irritate Meryl, and she didn't bother to turn to see what had caught his attention.

A brief, sharp, "What?" the woman scowled lightly into her drink and pushing the cream to the side, "Do you want tea or not??" she turned fully to glare briefly at him, and turned away just as quickly.

"No, no, I don't want tea…" Vash was biting hit lip slightly, eyeing Meryl's back as if trying to see straight through her.

She only turned her head this time, and glanced at him out from the corner of her eyes, "Spit it out, broom head."

Vash's next words provoked a very odd reaction from the petite woman, one that nearly sent her spoon and sugar to the floor for ants.

She wished she hadn't even bothered to ask…

But she supposed it would have happened sooner or later, and she had been dreading when it did.

He pointed to her, an inquisitive look on his face, "What's that on the back of your neck, short girl?"

It was too bad she hadn't thought of pulling up her collar…

--

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**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	16. Shame in the Mind

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame

_dialogue _– **thoughts**

"dialogue" – **speaking**

**--**

Chapter 15

--

Feeling her heart flutter strangely, Meryl attempted to cover up her surprised start by stirring her tea. Quickly, she turned away from him, avoiding eye contact as though she hadn't even heard his last words.

Frowning, she hoped he didn't catch her surprise, "I have no idea what you are talking about." She stated firmly, and set about replacing her sugar and cream to their respective spots.

Meryl didn't miss the inquisitive look Vash was sending her. Mixed with suspicion, his eyes were narrowed.

It only proved to make her even more nervous than she already was. Milly had always told her she had never been a very good liar…

The blonde pursed his lips, and arched an eyebrow at the woman's back, "No, no, I just thought I saw something…" he struggled to keep his voice calm, grips of doubt closing in on him.

Meryl swallowed inaudibly, feeling her muscles tensing slightly.

He new…

That was when she suddenly found herself wondering why she was trying to hide it.

"What are you babbling on about, broom head?" she snatched up her cup of tea and turned to Vash with a mask of annoyance plastered firmly in place.

_Now that I've gone and denied it, there's nothing left to do but keep up appearances…_ her mind told her as though disapproving. Angrily, she glared up at the half-blood, keeping a peeved across her face.

Vash stood there for a moment, his mind in a jumble, staring in confusion at the petite woman before him. He didn't quite understand it…

_What's going on here??_ he asked himself, observing the woman closely, trying to find a crack in her façade. He knew she was lying.

Meryl herself was beginning to feel quite unnerved with the way Vash was staring at her, and she fought resiliently for control over her shaking hands.

_What the hell is he doing??_ her mind was beginning to panic.

The petite woman swallowed again before averting her eyes from the vampire to her tea. Small waves, the result of her trembling hands, were forming on the surface of the drink, and Meryl occupied herself with taking a sip. She clutched the cup fiercely, steadying it before her tea ended up on her floor.

All too quickly, her stomach felt tight, and it churned almost painfully inside of her. Catching her breath, she fought down her feeling of nausea lest Vash sense something. Doughtily, she managed to restore her glare and glance back up at the man, her lips curled down in a slight frown.

But what she saw startled her, and she fought to stay on the spot instead of backing away.

Vash narrowed his eyes at Meryl, took one step forward, and faced her with a distrustful glare on his face.

Startled, the petite woman stumbled slightly, breaking her hardiness and stepping back from the man. Vainly, she struggled to hold onto what remained of her earlier mask, all the while slowly backing up from the vampire.

His voice froze in her tracks, though.

"Stop-right-there."

The next moment, Vash was pointing at her, his voice accusing, and Meryl couldn't help but let her surprise show.

She halted abruptly, the cup of tea now shaking uncontrollably in her hands, spilling over the edge of the mug onto her fingers. For a moment, she thought she would end up dropping the mug, but she constricted her nerveless grip and watched at the half-blood stepped up to her.

Stuttering slightly, the petite woman eyed the man warily, "W-what are you d-doing??" the words come out a bit too quick for her taste, but Meryl prided herself for not panicking.

Vash arched an eyebrow at Meryl, leaning down slightly and reaching a hand towards her. He said nothing, and was contented to stare into her eyes.

Blinking rapidly, the petite woman stood stone stiff, the cup rattling within her fingers. Head unmoving, her eyes followed Vash's movements as he reached forward a hand. Abruptly, she thought for a moment that he was about to pat her cheek or perform some other odd gesture, but when his hand landed on her shoulder and pulled her around she felt defeat and had to fight against the urge to pull away.

The raw, bruising K engraved into the back of her neck was in full view of the vampire.

She waited, her back to Vash, as the tense air around her almost stifled her, choked and pressed down upon her. It was unbearable, but broken as Vash almost gingerly traced the outline of the _K_ on her neck.

It was almost a ghost of a touch, a tickling sensation that that sent the hairs on the back of her neck on end.

And then he had turned her again, his hand on her petite shoulders, pulling her back to face him.

But Meryl didn't want to look at him, she felt too ashamed, too mortified for keeping the mark from everyone around her.

Slowly, her head turned, her eyes sliding off to the side as if trying to catch of the K. It was just away to avoid the man's eyes. The petite woman was prevented from turning even further, however, when Vash's hand came up to grasp her chin, turning it forcefully back into place. One was still on her shoulder, keeping her firmly in place.

Meryl could feel her stomach doing flip-flops, churning almost painfully in a way that made her feel slightly nauseous and lightheaded.

She was facing Vash fully now, his eyes searching hers as if trying to decipher some hidden secret.

Gulping, Meryl tried to pry her own eyes from his face, but was further frozen when his voice, just above a whisper, found her ears.

"Look at me…"

He sounded like a doctor observing a patient, but Meryl quickly obeyed, her legs shaking nervously.

Satisfied, he let his hand fall from her chin, instead reaching around to touch the K. Meryl twitched, feeling anything but comfortable, but stayed in place, the half-blood's eyes nailing her to the spot.

And then, there was a sharp, horrible pain in her neck as Vash pressed down on her wound.

He probably hadn't meant to hurt her, but the petite woman had to smother a yelp. Quickly, she tore away from his hold, spilling her tea, but sparing one hand to clap over the wound. It was stinging, burning horribly under her fingers. Wincing, blinking down her tears and trying to force away the pain, Meryl could only concentrate on the light, tingling sensation spreading up her neck.

She almost cried out when she realized what it was, but instead deposited her tea on the counter lest her nerveless grip slip from the handle.

Her wound was reopening, and she could feel the blood slowly oozing forth from the _K_, seeping through her fingers.

Swallowing thickly, the petite woman glanced at Vash, who was still watching her, his face unreadable.

She hated it, but resisted the urge to take her pain out on the man.

It wouldn't have made a difference, anyway, for the next moment a feeling of heat came, as though she was standing too close to a fire, the hairs on her neck were burning away. It only intensified as the moments ticked by, and it felt as though Meryl's skin was melting away.

Fortunately, that seemed to be all Vash needed, he withdrew his gaze from her, straightening up. Almost instantly, Meryl felt the pain seep away as his eyes left her, the only feeling left the tickling of blood oozing forth. However, that didn't mean he was done, and he turned to her again, his face taught.

Aqua eyes hard, boring into her smoky grey ones, Meryl quashed the sudden hollow feeling in her chest, preferring to glance away, completely speechless.

His next words were quiet, but she could hear him perfectly, "Do you know what that is?" he asked quietly, his face sombre.

Mutely, Meryl shook her head, shying away from the look she was receiving. Her shame increased ten fold, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl away and hide from Vash.

She wished none of this had ever happened. She wished she had never met him that night, while she was going to Nick's.

But Vash was speaking again, and he raised bloodied fingers to show the woman, "This," he rubbed his index and thumb together, "is your blood."

Meryl stayed silent, letting her hand fall to her sides, a look of disgrace marring her features.

"And it will draw every vampire in London to you until you are dead." He said it so matter-of-factly that Meryl felt her insides freeze up quite suddenly.

Then, walking past the stunned woman, he went to the sink and turned on the water. Carefully, he rinsed the blood from his hands.

Meryl turned suddenly, snatching up her discarded tea from the counter. And then, in one quick movement, she stepped up beside the vampire and deposited the rest of her drink down the drain. She felt too sick to drink anything anymore. She felt to sick to speak.

As Vash turned from the sink, she slowly pulled open a drawer, taking out a cloth and wetting the material while rinsing the blood from her hands. Cutting the water, she placed it to the back of her neck. It was the only thing she could do to settle her stomach.

"How long have you had it?" Vash asked then, taking a seat at her table.

Avoiding his eyes, Meryl slowly took the seat opposite him, "Over a week." She answered dully, eyes glued to the wood grain of her table.

It was strange, he didn't seem angry, not like he had before.

Sighing, he propped his head up in one elbow, his tousled hair falling in his eyes, "When did you get it?"

Meryl turned slightly, watching him silently. He looked beaten, tired and worn out. A small frown was on his lips.

She cleared her throat slightly, almost embarrassed at her answer, "At the marketplace," she replied, "when I was following you."

Starting slightly, Vash turned, meeting her eyes, "You were following me??" he asked disbelievingly.

Meryl opened her mouth to confirm his statement, but she was interrupted as he fired off another question.

"Why??"

Taken aback, the petite woman's eyes widened considerably. Was she really supposed to answer that?? Could she possibly tell him of her dreams, her nightmares that plagued her night after night?? The ones that seemed to be ever changing, adding more on every time she experience one?

Shaking off the thought, she lied between her teeth, "I…I don't know."

_I sensed something strange about you, that's why._ she answered mentally, _I figured you could tell me why I was having strange dreams and why I felt they were connected to you…_

So why the hell wasn't she telling him about them? Why was she lying again??

Vash stood up abruptly, slamming his hands upon the hard oak of the table. He turned a glare upon the petite woman, who was startled enough as it is without him scowling at her.

And people said she had sudden mood swings!

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Vash stated finally, "We're going to see Wolfwood and Milly."

Blinking in confusion, Meryl's eyebrows shot up, "But they are coming back over around noon, anyway!"

The half-blood turned, clearly to leave, "This can't wait until then."

He started towards the hallway, but Meryl shot up from her seat, holding a hand out as if to stop him.

"Wait!" she shouted, and she watched at he turned, his profile to her, and she shot off what her mind was aching to know, "But what do you know? Who is doing this?? Who gave it to me?? I need to know!" she was frantic now, and was afraid Vash wouldn't tell her.

Slowly, the blonde turned to her, and she dropped her hand limply to the table. She waited for an answer, watching his trouble face closely.

Then, switching his bright eyes onto her, Vash sighed, "Who else but Knives himself?" he said, and spun around, exiting the kitchen without another word or glance.

That was it…

Meryl was left alone with her thoughts. The claws of fear gripped her insides like a vice, and she felt completely hopeless to the world. She had never felt so small in her whole life. When had she found herself so small, so powerless to the events going on around her?

Knives…

That was all her mind could say.

Knives…

Knives, the man who held control over every vampire eve to come to this world…

Knives wanted her dead…

Collapsing back into her chair, Meryl buried her face in her hands.

But no sobs came forth.

She didn't feel like crying.

--

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**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	17. Beasts in the Way

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame 

"Dialogue" – speaking

_Dialogue - _thoughts

--

**Chapter 16**

**--**

There was fog. It was everywhere, swirling around in thick clouds, twirling around their feet and whisking off as soon as it was touched.

Oddly depressing, it was. Gloomy and dismal, enough to dampen anyone's high spirits. The bloody stuff hung in the streets like a plague, cold and damp, muffling any sounds nearby. Even the scurrying of a rat was now a mere patter, more like rain droplets than anything.

And speaking of rain, the weather wasn't holding up. It was back to its miserable springtime course.

Drizzle, more drizzle…

A slight pause, and then a trickle.

It was followed by spitting, the heavens scorning the people, which ended with a downpour.

An endless torrent of water that drowned out even the most resilient plants and left the mangy dogs of London scampering under unwelcome doorways with their tails between their legs. It left the cats smelling of the dogs, and worth nothing more than a simple tool. Catch the rats searching for cover…you weren't welcome back in the house until you were dry. Get used to sleeping outside, you mangy animal.

It was drizzling now….

The horrible stench of the streets rising up in wafts of steam that was pungent in her nose. The springtime rains trapped all the horrible stenches London was ashamed of. It trapped them and forced them upon the people, leaving them sick in it's wake.

This was how Meryl found herself, trailing after Vash, a half-vampire who had a heart nobler than most men.

Trotting through the swirling, thick fog coating the narrow, winding streets.

She wouldn't ask how Vash knew where Milly lived. She had only realized he was the one leading several minutes ago. Her mind was in too much of a blank for her to think straight, no less use common sense to answer any questions she might have had.

But they were all answered, albeit briefly and much to her chagrin.

Meryl was still in shock, and the full severity of her situation still hadn't managed to worm its way into her brain, which by itself was slowly shutting down. It still hadn't come upon her; her thoughts were more along the lines of how hungry she was.

Truly strange, it was.

She couldn't remember if she had had breakfast yet or not.

Carefully, Milly set the full plate of eggs and toast before the priest, and then, smiling happily, she retrieved her own and took at seat at her kitchen table opposite the man. Her kitchen had always had a nice warm and comfy feeling about it. As though there was always a fire burning somewhere in a hearth, keeping it heated on even the coldest of days.

She had always liked it like that. It was even nicer though, when someone was there to talk to. It was no fun being warm and cozy with no one to talk to.

Wolfwood had been kind enough to come over early before they decided on a time to head out for Meryl's house to question Vash further.

He was a nice man, she was certain. Even if he was a half-blood, a demon as her sempai called them, she believed him to be incredibly honest. Milly felt he could be trusted, and didn't understand why Meryl pestered him so.

The poor man. He had had it hard his entire life, and the small woman was only making it more difficult for him.

A sigh from the tall woman brought Wolfwood's gaze up from his plate, and he fixed the girl with a stare.

"Everything okay, big girl?" Eyeing her full plate, he frowned slightly. "Not hungry, are you?"

Biting her lip, Milly shook her head, picking up her fork at the man's subtle urging. She had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, the kind she only had when something bad—well not necessarily bad, but something _important_, was about to happen.

"I'm fine Mr. Priest. Just worried for Meryl, I suppose…" she trailed off, catching the smile from Wolfwood as he heard her nickname for him.

Skewering an egg with his fork, he arched an eyebrow at the woman. She had been acting generally out of place all morning, and he was beginning to wonder about her.

_It isn't me, is it?_ he asked himself, pursing his lips slightly before speaking again.

"Eat up, Milly. If you're worried for Meryl, you won't be any good to her if you starve yourself." He grinned, adding with a wink. "Besides, these eggs are delicious, and this toast! Have you ever thought about taking up a chef's hat for a living? It's much better than chasing down vampires at night…"

"Wait…" Vash held up a hand, stopping in his tracks, nearly causing Meryl to walk right into him.

Instead, she halted just as quickly, her face still somewhat blank and her ears still not quite hearing. Despite this, though, she managed to give him a questioning look, a frown creasing her brow and curling her lips downward. This showed she wasn't just some other walking zombie.

"What?" the petite woman asked irritably, but her voice was only half in it, her tone displaying bored exasperation more than annoyance.

Vash didn't answer for a moment, but instead slowly turned, his aqua eyes searching for something Meryl couldn't possibly see. His red overcoat fluttered around his boots in a nonexistent breeze.

That was when she noticed it.

The incredible tension in the air. The silence, even through the thick masses of fog.

It wasn't natural.

"I…I think I'm lost…" he said finally, his brow furrowing in concentration, but his eyes didn't stray from their surroundings.

Raising an eyebrow, Meryl took a quick glance around them, coming out of her deaf haze for a moment to point out the right direction. She certainly hadn't come out from the safety of her room to be led around like some dog by a fool who didn't know his left from right. He had been doing fine with the directions only a few minutes before…

"It's that way." She stated flatly, pointing off to her right before starting off. The light drizzle was getting to her, and she was cold.

But Vash's hand shot out to catch her arm, and he spoke, his voice a low whisper. "No, wait…"

Slowly, a pair of blank smoky-grey eyes turned, scanning the area as a slight tremor ran up her spine. Something wasn't right, even someone ignorant to the world could guess that.

"What is it…?" she all but breathed, sliding from Vash's now slack grasp and turning to blink at her surroundings.

"Wait…" Was his only response, and she did just that.

Leisurely, almost languidly, figures appeared through the thick misty fog clouding the streets, strolling casually through the white swirls to confront the two.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Vash turned, gazing into the mists. They were coming in at all sides, circling them like caged prey. He didn't like it at all.

Beside him, Meryl watched the figures as they slowly took on forms, human forms.

But maybe not all that human…

Her eyes were fixed on one of them, slightly taller than the rest, his form imposing, and strangely familiar…

Beside her, a low growl was heard from Vash's throat, and he whispered a name so vehemently, Meryl briefly wondered if she had mistaken him. Maybe he wasn't the gentle and kind man that she had known all along, but a demon like the rest of them.

"Legato!"

That name sparked some recognition in Meryl's mind, and quite suddenly, as if she was waking from a dream, her head snapped up, her eyes focused on the tall figure stepping through the mist.

Golden eyes.

Another tremor found it's way down her spine, and she felt her muscles tense, getting ready for that split-second decision on whether to stay and fight or run until she couldn't breath any longer.

"Ahh…Vash, how nice to see you again." Was the reply through the fog, and Legato stepped out into the open, his form much clearer and his cold, yellow eyes focused only on Meryl, even though he was speaking the to half-blood.

Staying silent, the petite woman shied away from those eyes, instead focusing her attention on Vash, who stood stiff as a board beside her.

"What do you want, Legato?" the blonde demanded, his eyes narrowing. "Did Knives send you?"

Offhandedly, the blue haired man shrugged. "Whoever else, Vash? Every vampire in London has been sent by Knives, it was only a matter of time before we found her again." He smirked then, averting his eyes from Meryl to fix his dead stare on the half-blood. "Tell me, Vash…I don't quite understand. Why ever did you take the girl outside? She would have been much safer in her own house."

Taking a step towards Meryl as the circle seemed to close in on them, striding forward into clearer view from the wafting fog, he answered with a growl, almost like some feral animal.

"That is none of you're concern, Legato. Take them and leave now, and no harm will come to any of you."

Legato seemed to contemplate his words a moment, casting his eyes over the vampires under his command. Then, he shook his head in a sign of dismissal. Vash should have known better. Pure bloods were too foolish for their own good.

"Just think about it, Vash. Just for a moment, realize that every vampire in London is searching day and night for the beauty beside you. Knives is offering an almost unlimited award to the one who brings her to him alive, unharmed, before the mark begins to take effect…Think of all the possibilities if _you _were the one to take her in, to hand her over to Knives. My master would be very pleased, indeed, Vash. Who knows, he may even accept you back as who you rightfully are—"

"Enough!" Vash's angered voice interrupted the man, and Meryl started somewhat, not quite certain she had heard his voice so harsh before. But…she couldn't help wonder what Legato was saying. Goodness knows only half of it made sense to her.

She was glad, however, the half-blood would stay true, even when such a tempting reward was being waved under his nose.

Her thoughts were cut off, however, when the tense scene before her suddenly took a hostile turn, definitely for the worst, and Legato suddenly had a gun aimed at him, its holder none other than Vash himself.

"I have told you once, and I'll only say it once more!" the blonde's voice started, clear but wavering slightly. "I wont have you endangering the lives of others, no matter what orders Knives has given you! Now, back off!"

--

As Milly stood at her kitchen sink, depositing dishes into the large tub, her mind was set racing, as it seemed to do nowadays. Ever since Meryl had come to her asking for help in finding that odd man, Mr. Vash. She hadn't been able to make sense of what the small woman had been asking her at first. Something about a feeling, and then she had showed her that…what had it been?

A mark?

Had it been a mark?

Frowning, Milly dumped the last of her dishes in the sink and turned the water on, her hands wandering absently for a dishtowel.

A sort of warning sign was going off in her head, and she suddenly found it quite hard to ignore. It was telling her everything she had forgotten over the past week. She had been too caught up in the events, Mr. Vash, Sempai having been injured and their discussions with the half-blood over Knives. This mysterious Knives…

And then, it all came crashing back down to her.

The mark…the mark had been bleeding.

It had been red and swollen, as though cut in with a knife…

That was right…but Meryl had insisted she hadn't been the one to do it.

She hadn't been the one to mark herself with a K.

Dishtowel and dish alike slid back into the sink with a slight splash and muffled _thunk_.

Why hadn't she paid more attention to Meryl? Why hadn't she questioned her further, why had she forgotten about it? How could she forget something so significant?? A 'K' on the back of Meryl neck? It all made sense to her now…well almost. It _almost _made sense to her. She wasn't as dull as she seemed. Milly was sure she was right on this one.

_Why would Lord Knives Saverem mark Sempai with a K, when she hasn't even met the man before?_

Milly stood motionless for a few moments, her hands poised over the sink, the water still running, until a familiar voice interrupted her.

"Honey, are we almost ready to head out? You can leave the dishes till later, you know. I'll help you with them once we're done at Meryl's."

Milly didn't turn, but reached back into the steaming water to retrieve her washcloth, the wheels in her mind turning rapidly with her new discovery. Slowly then, she spoke, ignoring the priest's earlier words.

"Nicholas…what it the significance of a marking made by a vampire. One on the neck, besides the initial bite…like a letter? A letter on the back of your neck? What does it mean?" her voice was somewhat frantic, and she listened as Wolfwood seemed to shift nervously behind her.

"Why do you ask that, Milly?" for once, his voice was completely serious.

--

Vash's words seemed to crumble what little of the surrounding vampire's resolve had been present, and doubled with the gun pointed at their leader, the bloodsuckers literally went mad.

Meryl had always known they were weak in their sense, simply barbaric monsters, but as the first one advanced on her with teeth bared, her presumptions were rethought quite quickly. Now, they were bloodthirsty savages with little attached to the words moral ethics and a fair fight, no less the idea that their leader might want important hostages _alive_ instead of speared through by a couple fangs and left rotting on the street until they turned.

Unfortunately, Meryl's reflexes weren't up to normal standards today, and she found herself merely staring at the things, the _things_ advancing on her.

The first one to reach her face however, was blasted away by a single shot, and Meryl suddenly found herself yanked backwards by the hood of her cloak before yet another bloodsucker was sent to the ground, writhing like a worm. Under normal circumstances, she supposed she would have found the sight either pleasantly vengeful or revoltingly disgusting, but as the person behind her seemed quite intent on choking her with her own clothes, the petite woman couldn't get anything out of it.

"Stop struggling, shorty!" A voice she recognized a Vash's said in her ear, and she calmed immediately while being dragged yet further from the angered vampires.

When had he moved? She hadn't seen him get behind her!

"Yes, well maybe if you wouldn't try strangling me with my own cloak I wouldn't have to!" she retorted hotly. "Anyhow, I don't think I trust you at my back enough to have you behind me, or dragging me!" Forcefully, she ripped herself from his hands, and whirled around to face him, another biting snap hot on her lips.

The petite woman wasn't expecting, however, to come face to face with a gun, and it was enough to shut her up for the time being.

Vash's face seemed slightly paler than usual, almost painfully dark circles ringing his eyes, which weren't up to their usual vigour or sparkle. The gun in her face perhaps was part of his present pallor, but the sight of her wide eye and slightly open mouth seemed to snap him out of his deathly stupor. His next words dashed Meryl's resent fears, and she obeyed him without question.

"Down!" Even as he said it, his hand came down upon her head, forcing her to lower her head, and seconds later; he fired one shot into the oncoming vampire. It fell to the ground at Meryl's feet, injured but certainly not dead. Vash never killed on purpose.

And then, he was dragging Meryl around from her half stunned state, and pushing her before him, once again with a command.

"Go! Ahead of me! You know the way to Milly's, so don't keep her waiting!"

This time however, Meryl turned with a reply, her face stormy even as she glimpsed the incoming daywalkers through the foggy streets. Angrily, she narrowed her eyes at the half-blooded blonde.

"Think again, you overgrown broom head!" Flinging her cloak back, she pulled out a derringer, one loaded with silver. "If you actually believe you can order me around you better reconsider. You have all the answers I need, and I'm, not about to let you get away with them! Now, hurry up before I loose my patience and start shooting these things!" even as the words left her mouth, Meryl knew it was cruel, but how was she supposed to make the stubborn man move if not with a threat?

Vash's eyes narrowed, and it seemed, even with that action, what little humanity he clung to dissipated. His beautiful aqua eyes were that of a dead man.

"Fine." He stated harshly, and whirled past the petite woman without another word, his large, silvery gun clutched firmly in his hand.

Meryl joined him, running in step beside him, leading them to Milly's house, where she had always known a place to seek refuge from the world. This time, however, she wondered if it was such a smart idea…

--

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	18. Change in the Wind

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame 

A/N: Yay! I'm back! And I still have a bit of writer's block! ; But I think it's a good sign that I suddenly found myself wanting to write this. Actually, it took me a few days to actually get it all down, but at least it's all here, ne? So, enjoy! Thank you everyone for your support! sniffs I don't know what I would have done without you guys!

I have a few little things to be cleared up or answered before I head along with the story, so sit tight!

#1 Is Wolfwood a vampire? I'm not sure if I somehow mentioned Wolfwood being a vampire, but just to let you guys know, he isn't. Interesting concept, though. I'll have to think more about that one ;)

#2 Is Vash going to bite her? Well, I don't know…what do you think? Guess you'll have to keep reading, wont you?

#3 When's the Vash/Meryl romance!!?? Yes, I know you're all getting a little irritated with me, but my plans have changed a bit. It should be coming soon, though. I hope…;

Special Thanks to**: Hannah5 (you're so nice to me!! ;; Thanks for all your reviews!), Lynderia, Kate Connor, kongykun, saoui, Maia Webmistress (glad you liked the chapter!), SailorPenguinz (I agree, Johnny Depp is so hot! Oh, I have to say I'm glad you didn't find my mistake!), Roganu-chan (thanx!), sweet-stars (I know, I'm a killer with cliff hangers! ), Ana, sora7 (I hate writers block so much! I'm glad you could wait for this chapter), Zalpinian (Finally someone who will criticize me! Seriously, thank you!), vash#1fan, Chibi Chibi (I hope you get over your writers block soon, if it already isn't gone…--;;), addictive (I always love enthusiasm!), Alucard2, bluesky7, and last but not least…WW!**

Thank you all for your reviews! (I really should go back to the individual ones, shouldn't I? --

**Disclaimer: I don't own it! Final!**

_Dialogue -_ thoughts

"Dialogue"- speaking

** Chapter 17 (I'm getting confused here…)**

Meryl could feel the hostility flowing off him in waves. He was practically burning with it, aggression written all over him, in his actions. It frightened her some, but also angered her.

He was a fool.

She had come to that conclusion after only a few moments back there, as they were facing the bloodsucker's head on. Either that or she had terribly misjudged him. Either that or she was the one off; she was the one who was an idiot, a foolish idiot.

Meryl would never brand herself, however, and the way anger, frustration and aggression was all wrapped up in a nice little package, rolling off Vash, the fool of a half-blood now, she could hardly call herself an idiot. He was the one who had acted rashly. He was the first one to fire the shot, and he was the one who had almost refused to leave.

She had been the one to save his life, as measly as it seemed to her.

But now, as both ran through the streets of London, the half-blooded vampire and the woman meant to hunt him, they both seemed like fools.

Legato had been right. Mayhap she—_they_ might have been safer in her own house, even if the damned bloodsuckers knew the location and had complete access right through the front door. She might have been better off in her bed, sleeping off this horrible headache she had somehow produced over the time she had awoken, so abruptly learned her fate, and somehow managed in the streets, running like fool from a pack of bloodthirsty vampires with nothing close to the sense of morality.

And boy, were they ever angry.

The petite woman could hear there shouts, their snarls, their inhuman jeers and laughs as they enjoyed the hunt, as they cased after their prey, one of their own blood and a woman sought out by their master.

This was how Meryl found herself, short of breath as she struggled to keep up with the blonde's rapid pace. Her breath was coming hoarse now, her legs becoming leaden with every step she took. It was becoming an effort to keep up with Vash, and she hated it.

Being short was a burden no one should have to endure, she decided angrily as she forced her legs to move faster, quicker. But it was hard, she seemed to be taking baby steps, and the vampires only seemed to be gaining on them.

Moreover, Meryl wasn't about to lead them right to Milly's front door, or Nick's for that matter.

But the priest was out of the question, as the petite woman realized they had passed the crossing to his home several minutes ago. Milly was their last hope, but Vash had no clue as to where he was going.

And Meryl was falling further behind with every passing second.

This led Vash to a difficult decision. It seemed, no matter how he tried to push the responsibility away, the final vote always fell on his shoulders, whether he liked it or not. And at this time, he didn't like it.

Meryl was too slow, or rather, her lack of height contributed to her lack of speed. She wasn't necessarily slow, just unable to keep up with his longer, swifter strides.

_Damn the man who invented height…_

But the daywalkers were gaining on them, their noses sniffing out the short girl's blood, and her blood was the only thing on their minds.

It was becoming more difficult to resolve their horrid situation at every passing moment. Vash could feel what seemed to be the first signs of fear creeping under his skin, crawling it's way along his spine like some disgusting parasite you couldn't be rid of. And he could feel his strength waning.

Yes, it was definitely going. With every passing second, as he breath came forth in white wisps, visible in the cool air, as his body strained forward, as his ears picked up the sounds of their footsteps, as his senses could feel their presence.

Giving a sort of strangled, choking noise, the half-blood halted abruptly, _Feel my own damn lifeblood being used up by the minute…! _he cursed inwardly, his thoughts hardly making sense to himself as he caught the short woman by the arm when she slowed beside him.

And then, he dragged both of them into an alley, the smell of day old garbage and stench of the dead heavy in the air. It was utterly repulsive, but enough to muffle the scent of blood. It just might be enough.

Meryl, however, had different thoughts about the matter. Not only did she _not _enjoy being dragged into dank alleys by the scruff of her neck, like some sort of drowned cat, the first thing that came to mind wasn't pleasant. She associated dark places and vampires with unpleasant activities involving sharp fangs and massive amounts of lost blood.

So, she did the only thing she could think of, the thing she had been taught from since before she could walk, talk, or even hold a stake.

Angrily, Meryl jammed her elbow into Vash's ribs, struggling madly from his grasp with the vengeance of the heavens on her side. Or, so it seemed.

As a sharp response, the half-blood gasped, grimaced, slapped a hand over her mouth, and slammed her against the alley wall. The horrid, slimy, reeking, dirty alley wall. And then he hissed in her ear.

"Stop it! I don't think I can put up with your idiocy much longer!"

Meryl could feel the slime on her cheek, and she gazed into the darkness of the alley with wide eyes. This reminded her all too much of their first meeting. It made her both angry and frightened.

But then anymore words that were to be exchanged were ended quite abruptly as they heard them. The bloodsuckers, the mass of daywalkers trampling down the streets, hoots and howls rising up into the air with a chilling intensity that made anyone in their right mind run for the nearest hiding spot.

_Everyone will be inside now…_ Meryl thought, her eyes staring blindly into the darkness as Vash refused to move, as the horde of monsters rumbled down the London street, trampling everything and anything in their path.

_Everyone will be running now, just like the cowards they are…_ the petite woman's thoughts turned bitter as she listened to the inhuman screams fading, the pounding footsteps' echoes dying heavily as the pack moved on.

_Like hungry wolves, bloody disgusting_

And the two were left with nothing but their own harsh breathing to listen to.

"Nicholas…?"

Abruptly, the priest was broken from his thoughts by the sound of his name off Milly's hesitant lips.

He never wanted that. He never wanted her to feel afraid around him…

"Why do you ask that, honey?" he asked again, using the endearment as if to remind her he was no stranger, despite the odd note in his voice.

Slowly, his dark, cloudy blue eyes met her clear ones, and he didn't at all like the look in them. It was almost cold, distant, guarded. It was as though she was waiting for him to jump at her at any moment.

"I…I well…" she was still hesitant, and Wolfwood could feel any warmth that might have remained in the room abruptly vanish as the air around them became tense. She had just trodden upon unspoken territory, and she wasn't at all sure she liked it.

"I…there…I saw-I saw one…" once again, the tall woman failed miserably, and her eyes drifted to the floor as she tried to gather her wits.

This was horrible. She had never been afraid of Wolfwood before, never, never, never…

"Where did you see it, Milly?"

Now his voice was pressing, urging her to continue as though he didn't mind, as though he welcomed the questions. Milly shivered internally, her insides clenching painfully as she forced the words out.

"I…I saw it…on Sempai."

And then she was crying, tears welling up in her bright eyes, now dulled with sadness. And the priest would do nothing to help her.

"Oh Meryl!" she cried mournfully, "What does it mean, Nicholas!?"

Right then. It could have been right then. That could have been the exact moment, but the priest wasn't sure. The priest was never sure about anything these days. Everything had changed too fast, too soon. But that was it.

That was when Nicholas D. Wolfwood felt the world around him come crashing down upon him like some horrible dream made reality, when everything suddenly turned around and you were faced with the horrible truth of everything.

Damn, and it hurts… 

"Are they gone, do you think?" Meryl's quiet whisper seemed to echo in the small space. To her, her voice was entirely too loud.

Vash, however, could barely hear her. "I don't know…" He didn't know when he had let her free from his hold, but somehow they had managed to come to be standing in the middle of the alley, swathed in darkness and clothed in the stench of garbage.

"I think they're gone." Came the short woman's persistent voice, still deathly quiet.

It annoyed Vash.

"Then why don't you go see?" he stated boldly, if not somewhat haughtily.

Meryl turned to him with an irritated glare, and again she was somewhat surprised by how deathly pale the half-blood looked, even in the dim light. That wouldn't land him any sympathy, though. She wasn't gullible.

"Why don't you? _You're _the vampire!"

Vash shook his head in exasperation. "What does that have to do anything?"

"Everything!" Meryl snarled, and her voice echoed loudly through the alley, which only caused the half-blood to panic and slap his hand over her mouth once more.

"You don't have to yell, shorty! I can hear you just fine without you screaming in my ear!" he whispered to her harshly, his dull aqua eyes flickering from side to side nervously.

The petite woman's cheek twitched slightly, and she narrowed her gaze angrily before pulling away from the vampire's hold, her fists balled and ready before her. Vash really didn't like the way this was going…

"And I can hear you quite well without being strangled. If you think it's going to get my attention, you better think again, half-blood." She spat, and watched as her words took effect on her companion. However, as he stiffened, and looked ready to hurtle an insult right back at her, Meryl cut him off, once again shooting off in a rage.

"Now, to the fact _you_ should be the one going out there to see if _you're _bloodsucker friends are gone!" Meryl kept her voice somewhat lower than before, and whispered the words in a low frenzy, her smoky grey eyes blazing. "Why do you think, broomhead? You're the damned vampire! You're less likely to be ravaged and attacked than me! And did I mention ­you _aren't_ the one being hunted down by a mass of bloodthirsty monsters, so therefore are more candid to go check than me? Understand, half-blood? Or is you're bloody skull to thick to comprehend??"

The petite woman finished her rant with a deep breath, and took a step back as Vash turned to her, his face stormy.

And once again, she was struck by how pale he seemed, how lifeless his eyes were and how they stared at her with a empty deadness she only associated with one thing.

Vampires. Full fledged vampires, their souls encrusted with a layer of darkness to thick to penetrate.

Their hearts too black to see the light.

And then he spoke, his tone cold and quiet, a manner to match his eyes. The way they stared at her was unnerving.

"You have an awfully bold voice for a dead woman, you know."

And his words disturbed her much more than they should have.

Meryl suddenly felt cold, but there was no one to talk to.

Vash was already turning the corner onto the street, and if he was going to wait for her or not, she didn't know.

Being left behind was what she was worried about.

(Okay, I admit. I was thinking about cutting off here, but realized I wanted them to get to Milly's—mostly because it takes me so long to get people places! )

_Sempai…poor Sempai…_

Milly's mind was working of its own accord. She wasn't paying attention to what she was doing, what was going on around her. She didn't even notice her stomach growling, her hunger finally having caught up with it.

Everything was falling apart, it seemed.

Everything was going wrong. It was never supposed to be this way.

What she had found out from Nick wasn't ever supposed to happen to Sempai. It just…it just wasn't right. It wasn't natural…

The tall woman shifted slightly on her couch to address the problem that was her numb leg. Sitting for too long in one position did that to a person…

She rolled the cup of tea in her hands, her eyes staring across her living room, unblinking, unmoving.

Nick sat to her right, a cigarette hanging from his lips and a downward tilt to his whole being.

It was all quite depressing, really.

Meryl's whole condemned fate, the fact that she was marked with the vampire Lord's symbol. Done personally himself, she had been told.

Of course, that was not all that she had learned from Nicholas.

Shorty? He had exclaimed in a bewildered manner. You mean shorty is the one with the K? 

She had nodded to the priest's question; her face had been an ugly grey. Not unlike that of the dead.

_That's what Nicholas called Sempai…_

_It's the mark of Knives. The K, a symbol of his power. It sucks the power from you, big girl. Meryl's a dead woman, that's what she is. Proof of the living dead, not unlike Vash and his kin_

But that was funny. Sempai didn't look dead. She seemed quite alive; full of life the last time she had seen her…

It attracts the bloodsuckers like bees to honey 

The teacup in Milly's hands rattled violently for a moment, and she blinked, turning her blue eyes—normally glowing with joy—to the liquid inside.

They won't stop stalking her everywhere she goes until she's dead and turned, Milly. There ain't nothing you can do for her now

_No, no…there must be something I can do for Sempai…_

She's dead on her feet 

A loud knock resounded throughout the room, and Milly snapped far enough out from her stupor to recognize the sound of knuckles on wood. The rapping of knuckles on wood.

Someone was knocking on her door.

A/N: I think it was rather decent, a bit choppy, but hey, that's what happens when you don't write for a while! Anyhoo, notice random humour gone bad…I know, it didn't work out that great, but tell be what YOU think of it!

That's right, click that review button!

--Cayenne Pepper Powder


	19. Tear in the Eye

**No Want, No Hunger, No Shame**

"Dialogue"-speaking

_Dialogue- _thoughts

--

Chapter 18

--

"So what you're telling us is that…mark on short girl's neck is going to _what_? _Kill her?"_

Meryl hated the tone in Nick's voice.

"Well…yes, from what I know. It's a mark he uses on threats. Or, what he thinks is a threat."

Even more, she hated that oddness about Vash. She hated his sudden pallor, his cautiousness. He was acting too careful around them, and it she hated it. It made what little trust, what little _respect_ she had had for the man completely vanish.

"Yes…but Mr. Vash…what is it? And why does Sempai, of all people, have to suffer with it?"

She detested the look on Milly's face. The way she gave her that sympathetic, forgiving look. Everyone was acting as though she was suffering terribly.

That was stupid. She didn't feel any different.

"It's a form of supernatural primordial power that's gifted to the ruler and then taken away when the next one comes along. As long as Knives is on the "throne," or as long as he wants it there, Meryl will have the mark…and eventually die from it."

Really, they were speaking about her as if she wasn't there. As if poor little Meryl wasn't in the kitchen—preferring to separate herself too brood, and that they weren't in the living room, in full view of the kitchen, not to mention full hearing range. Bastards…

_No…not bastards…Milly isn't a bastard…_

Milly was too nice to be a bastard.

"So, as long as Knives is…well…_alive_, Meryl will slowly die?"

Clutching the cup of tea she had made when Vash and herself had arrived a few hours before, Meryl snorted. _I thought you would have figured that out by now, priest._

"That's what I said."

Stupid Vash, stupid priest.

_Yeah, that's what he said, Nicholas!_

"Oh, okay…"

There was a pause, Meryl's grip tightened on the unfortunate cup.

"So…if you don't mind me asking…how does it work?"

Damned priest! Wasn't this forbidden? At least outlawed!

"What work?"

Oblivious half-blood. He was such a sneak. Meryl could feel it, he was deceiving them all. Playing them for fools, all of them, even poor Milly.

The cup in her hand began to rattle on the surface of the wooden table as her grip tightened painfully, _Ta… tap-tap_

"How does it the mark work? What does it do?"

_Disgusting, priest, disgusting_ Meryl's eyes fixed themselves on the smooth grain of the table.

_Tap-tap-tap… tap tap-tap tap…_

"Nicholas, I think that's enough. We don't need to know this…"

Milly's voice was unsure. She was the only person Meryl could see in the living room from the kitchen, but she refused to look. She refused to meet the woman's bright blue eyes—now clouded with sorrow and pity.

She wasn't going to die.

The petite woman's grip loosened on the cup, her muscles relaxing somewhat.

_Tap…tap…tap…_

"No, no. Don't you think it's a good idea to know? I mean, what if its already started and we don't even know?"

_Tap-tap-tap…tap-tap tap…tap-tap-tap_

That idiotic priest. Why would he want to know? Hadn't she already said she wasn't going to die? All those bloodsuckers could go straight to hell, for all she cared. A strange sort of pain tightened in Meryl's throat, and her fingers wound themselves painfully about he ceramic cup, tightening in a death-grip.

"I'm…not sure what happens…"

_Liar…liar. You're a lying half-blood!_ Meryl's mind screamed to her, and her vision clouded somewhat. Her throat continued to tighten, and now she was breathing heavily through her nose.

_Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap!_

Her cup was rattling uncontrollably on the wooden surface, the noise becoming increasingly louder as Wolfwood continued with his pressing. The man just didn't know when to drop it. She could feel tears gathering in the bottom of her eyes, slowly filling up her vision.

"Sure you do, you're a vampire. Knives is your ruler. You knew who he was, who his henchmen are, who that Legato man was. Why shouldn't you know how this mark thing works?"

_Tap-tat-tap-tap…_

Was this man purposefully trying to cause her horror?

"Really…I don't know."

_Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap…_the tea was spilling, her tears were spilling.

"Nicholas…" Milly's reproachful voice. She could probably see Meryl, see her losing control

_Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap…_

"Don't you think it's important? We could be saving Meryl's life here!"

_I don't want to hear it, priest!_ Meryl mind was screaming, but all she managed was a small sniffle. Her eyes were watering, but she wouldn't call it crying.

_Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap…_

"Don't you think we should try to help her?! What if she's dying, right now, as we speak?!" Wolfwood was yelling now

Vash was torn.

Milly was shaking her head.

Meryl was crying.

_Tap-tap-tap…_the spilt tea was cold on her fingers now, but her grip didn't relent. It grew stronger, as if she was trying to strangle something…_Tap-tap-tap_

Then there was Vash's voice, cold and cruel.

"She is."

Drawing in a strangled sob, her cheeks wet with tears, Meryl shook her head. ­_Tap-tap,_ went the cup.

_Tap-Tap-Tap_ _Crack! _

It broke, simply crumbled under the force, and the small woman's fingers were cut with the broken pieces. The table was littered with tea, and the ceramic cup clattered loudly to the floor. And Meryl wiped her eyes before she stood.

Leaving the kitchen without a word, Meryl strode boldly through the living room. She ignored the shocked stares from her friends. She ignored them. Striding into the hallway leading to the coatroom, the petite woman snatched up her cloak. Shrugging it on, she heard murmurs from the living room, but couldn't understand them. She was still crying.

Meryl flung open the front door as Vash—of all people—came running after her howling something about "Not going outside," and nonsense about "Daywalkers waiting for her."

She didn't care. They could come if they wanted. It didn't matter now.

She _was _dying, even as Vash tried to persuade her to come back inside, to come back inside before they all sensed her presence by the K and came rushing in! Before Legato came, before Knives came.

So what?

Pulling her cloak tighter around her, she continued to walk. No, run. She was running, that was it. She was running from them all and would go back to her house. She would lock the doors, and if they came, so what?

So what? She was dead anyhow.

--

Milly and Wolfwood watched the two go, Milly an expression of shocked sorrow, while Wolfwood wore one of indifference.

Indifference. Once Milly regained her wits and saw that, a look of pure murder came over her face.

Now, towering over Wolfwood with superiority, she narrowed her blue eyes in rage.

"_What, was that, Nicholas Dwight?!" _she all but shouted, hands on her hips.

Slowly, the priest shrugged, patting himself down for a cigarette. He found one, and pulled a lighter from his pocket. Milly only seemed to puff up even more, bristling angrily at either being waved off an unthreatening, or frightening Meryl with his talk back there.

"And what's the shrug for, Mr. Wolfwood?" she asked angrily, referring back to a name she only used when she was terribly upset, such as now.

And she didn't miss the visible cringe from the priest.

"Now, Milly…" he began soothingly.

She flexed her fingers experimentally, as she sometimes did just before engaging in gunplay. It was a threatening gesture, one that Wolfwood took note of as something he never wanted to be the receiving end of.

"DON'T YOU 'NOW MILLY' ME, MR. WOLFWOOD!" she exploded angrily.

The priest sunk into his seat, the smoking cigarette hanging limply from his lips. This is what happened when someone (usually Meryl) dear to her was threatened. The only problem was, that Wolfwood really wouldn't call what he did threatening Meryl physically, or mentally for that matter. Maybe he frightened her a bit but—

"NOW, EITHER YOU EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT HAPPENED BACK THERE OR _YOU_, MR. WOLFWOOD, ARE GOING TO BE ON THE RECEIVING END OF _MY _STUN GUN BEFORE YOU EVEN HAVE THE TIME TO LIFT ONE HAND IN PROTEST!" Milly yelled angrily, now the picture of complete terror.

_That's my Milly… _Wolfwood thought weakly, not knowing if that was a good or bad thing. He decided it was bad.

"Now, honey…"

"Do _not_ 'Honey' _me_, Mr. Wolfwood!" She had managed to gather her temper somewhat, but was still as angry as hell itself.

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry!" he all but shrieked, shielding himself as though she was about to lash out with her stun gun at any second.

The tall woman gave the withered priest a deathly glare. "_Explain,"_ she demanded in a deathly quite, steely voice.

Wolfwood dared expose himself, blinking slowly at the woman above him. Blinking rapidly for a moment, he tried to gather his words to form an explanation.

"Milly, honey…it was for her own good, I swear!" he started.

She glared at him, arms now crossed.

He gathered himself and tried again. "Didn't you see the way the short girl's been acting since she found out about the meaning of the mark on her neck? I did, and I'll tell you, honey, I didn't like it. Meryl never acts that way; I've never seen her so depressed. I had to snap her out of it, you know?" apparently, Milly didn't, but that didn't stop Wolfwood from trying. "Milly, honey. At least I got a reaction out of her! She has her temper back, now, don't you see?"

Pursing her lips, Milly opened her mouth to speak. "I don't understand where you were going with that, Nicholas! That was a horrible thing to do, even if you did snap sempai out of her depression! She would have come out of it eventually, anyway. She's never been the one to sit around and brood for too long."

"That's why I was worried!" Wolfwood protested his innocence, but the taller woman only gave him a glare.

"Your worrying is earning you cleaning duty, Nicholas!" Milly said sternly.

The priest's cigarette fell limply in disappointment. "What?" he demanded.

A hint of a smile flittered across Milly's face, and she shrugged before settling down into the chair opposite him. "You're going to clean up the mess Sempai caused before both of us go over to her house. Now that we know what has been going on with this Mr. Legato and Mr. Knives, I suppose we'll have to do something about it."

Wolfwood only stared in disbelief.

"Go now!" Milly ordered, her voice stern once more before she relaxed into a happy smile. "And you better hope Meryl gets home safe with all those daywalkers running about the city!"

Luckily, Meryl did get home safe. That had probably been because of all the running she had done. She hadn't even known why she was running, or maybe what she was running from, there had been no day walking bloodsuckers lurking in the shadows for her and if there had been, in her half rage half sorrowful state, they wouldn't have lasted long. So, she just ran.

Vash had followed her. Bless the strange half-blood. She hadn't stopped to allow him to catch up though, she had ignored his pitiful cries from behind her, telling her to stop for him. She felt as though she was in a hurry, but from what, she didn't know.

Later, she might have found it odd that she had reached her house without any trouble whatsoever, but she was all too relieved when she unlocked her front door to care too much about it.

Her tears had stopped, thank goodness. It was humiliating, what she had done, just walked out of the place—and after ruining one of Milly's mugs, too!

Shaking her head, Meryl shrugged off her cloak and left the front door unlocked for Vash.

She didn't know when she had lost him, but at some point, the shouts from behind her had stopped. She could only guess he still followed, and knowing him, he probably did.

Her house was quiet, it was dark. It was uninviting and cold. Everything about it gave her the creeps, her own house made her shiver with fear! How ridiculous was that?

So, the first thing she did was run to the living room and start a fire in the hearth. Not a big one, mind you, but a small blaze just the right size to warm the room. She wasn't going to sit around to tend to it anyway. She didn't want to be a perfect target for conversation when Vash arrived.

She didn't feel like talking to anyone. It made her nervous.

So, she went upstairs to her room. It was cold there, too, so she stacked a pile of wood in the fireplace across from her bed and lit them afire. Instantly, her bedroom was engulfed in a warm glow that was only penetrated by the bleak weather outside. Meryl pulled the curtains tight. Everything was making her uneasy lately. She could jump at her own shadow, for goodness sakes!

The fire danced merrily in the hearth, the light jumping about the walls. It somehow managed to penetrate Meryl's bitter and cold thoughts, and for a while, she positioned herself before it, staring into the flames while they heated her to the bone.

It wasn't long before the door downstairs could be heard slamming shut, and footsteps made their way around the coatroom. That had to be Vash. Meryl had never known a vampire to remove its boots and jacket before fully entering her house. They much preferred to barge in with fangs showing before wreaking havoc upon her household.

For a brief moment, as Meryl's stormy-violet eyes stared at the firelight and she listened to the sounds of Vash below, for a brief moment she wondered why she had chosen such a strange occupation. Why had she decided to become a vampire hunter, one who risks their life for the sake of strangers?

But then she remembered. She remembered what she had promised her father a long time ago.

She had promised him she would follow him in his search. Promised, she had, to follow his footsteps and find the mysterious energizing remedy that cured the curse that lay upon the earth. Meryl had promised her father to rid the world of the nightcrawlers known as vampires and their half-blooded brothers known as daywalkers.

For a long while, Meryl sat cross-legged on the tick carpet of the hearthrug. Just for a while, she was able to empty her mind and think of nothing but the warmth before her.

Making a promise to herself, then, she decided she _would_ find the remedy; the one Wolfwood had managed to dig around on. However, she also decided she wouldn't be afraid. What was the use of being afraid when you were going to die eventually, whether it be tomorrow, the day after, a week after or sixty years from then?

Mortals were destined to die, Meryl realized in a moment of thoughtfulness. Why should she be afraid if her time was so much sooner than the others?

The slamming of her door downstairs brought the woman out of her musings. Either Vash had left or more had come.

The petite woman's grey-violet eyes narrowed slightly, and she decided to go see. The identity of everyone in her house needed to be known by her. Everything seemed to be finding its way to her home nowadays…

Slowly, Meryl poked at the fire before leaving it. Her body longed for the warmth, but she made her way out of the room with a stony determination.

And still, the question lay unanswered in her mind. Why should she be afraid if her time was so much sooner than the others?

It was because she still had so much left to do.

--

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	20. Thoughts in the Head I

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame 

**"Dialogue"- speaking**

**_Dialogue - _thoughts**

**--**

**Chapter 19 **

**--**

Upon entering her living room, Meryl could honestly say that she wasn't surprised to see Wolfwood and Milly chatting quietly with Vash by the blazing fire. Briefly, she wondered what there whispered conference was about before she stepped over the threshold, interrupting their conversation.

Instantly, all eyes were on her as the conversation stopped.

Meryl only felt the slightest bit embarrassed about her outburst back at Milly's, and what little left there was she quickly squashed. She had made herself a promise after all.

Raising an eyebrow, the petite woman regarded the three with a questioning look and crossed her arms over her chest. "Care to tell me what all the whispering is about. In my house, in my living room, by my fire, no less?"

The three just stared at her with varied levels of disbelief. Less than an hour before hadn't this been the same Meryl who had crushed a poor teacup to mere crumbles before storming out of Milly's house in a rage, not caring if all of hell was going to end up snapping at her heals once she exited that door? Wasn't this the same Meryl who had been acting so stoic the past day you had to take a _really_ good look at her, just to make sure she wasn't a ghost, or even worse, a walking, breathing zombie? Wasn't this the same Meryl—

"Hello? Are you all deaf or am I merely not speaking loud enough?" tapping her foot impatiently on the hardwood floor, Meryl surveyed the guilty party with narrowed eyes. "Care to fill me in on your secret, whispered conversation is all about?"

Milly was the first one to snap out of the general astonishment. Blinking slightly as if to clear her head, she opened her mouth to speak, but Wolfwood beat her to it.

"We thought you were asleep upstairs, so we didn't want to disturb you." He stated casually, still a bit sore about having to clean up Meryl's mess.

Nodding slightly, the small woman went to sit down in the last available chair. "That clears up the whispering part, priest. But that doesn't explain what you were talking about in the first place." She fixed her eyes upon Wolfwood and the two began a glared match.

Vash broke it up before it went to far, though. Clearing his throat almost nervously, he said, "We were just…talking about your…the K on the back of your neck. Nothing to get mad over, really!" he held up his hands in a gesture of peace as Meryl's stare fell upon him.

The small woman snorted. "So nice of you to include me." she stated humourlessly

"Now Sempai…" Milly's calm voice stated slowly.

"What?" Meryl replied snappishly, still somewhat peeved that she hadn't been included whatsoever in their little 'talk' about that bloody K on the back of _her_ neck.

"Don't get angry at Mr. Vash or Nicholas. They didn't do anything to you."

"Like hell they didn't…"

"What was that, Sempai?"

"Nothing."

"You're letting your temper get the best of you, Sempai."

"I am not."

"Yes, Sempai. Calm down and we'll tell you all about it."

"Do that." Meryl all but snorted, a piqued look upon her face.

The two men exchanged a look of bewilderment as Milly and her self proclaimed "sempai" finished their small argument. Meryl seemed to have a slightly better hold on her anger than she had had the week before…or even her whole life.

"Now, Nicholas, why don't you start?" Milly began pleasantly. "You were just telling us about the Purebrood castle where Lord Knives lives."

Pursing her lips, Meryl cast an irritated glance at the half-blood on the sofa. "I thought you were talking about the K."

"We were." Milly stated happily.

Rolling her eyes, the small woman leaned back in her chair, a sceptic's look upon her face. "Then why are we suddenly on the topic of that psycho Knives and his bloody vampire castle??"

Wolfwood pulled a cigarette out from seemingly nowhere, and moments later a lighter appeared too. He lit of the cigarette, taking in a deep breath of the toxic smoke before shooting Meryl and irritated look.

"Because we were discussin' how to get rid of it, that's why, shorty!" he snapped, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Naturally, the only why to stop you from—decomposing, lets say—is to either get Knives to retrieve the mark's power or kick the bugger of the throne, or even better yet, kill the bloodsucker."

No one noticed Vash wince slightly at the priest's words.

"Nicholas, that's no way for a priest to be talking." Milly scolded sternly.

Wolfwood merely _humphed_ good naturedly and stated with a small smile, "Yeah, well I'm a special kind of priest, honey."

Tapping her fingers in irritation against the hard wood of the chair's armrest, Meryl spoke stiffly. "I'd appreciate if you wouldn't speak of my condition like I'm rotting from the inside out, priest!"

"What, do you think one day you're just going to fall over dead, just like that?!" he asked loudly, puffing on his cigarette. "I think there's more to it that that, shorty! I think my idea is much more closer to the truth, anyhow. Once you start growing purple fungus, you'll know you're time is up!"

A vein in the side of Meryl's head began to throb painfully, and she flexed her fingers angrily before curling them—catlike—around the ends of the armrests.

"I don't know what you're so sore about, priest, but I'm sick of it. So you'd better spit it out before I really get mad, and then you better watch when you turn you're back!" she growled warningly to the tall man.

Wolfwood merely grinned. "Shorty, I'll tell you why I'm so mad! It's because I'm already sick of you moping around like it's the end of the world! So what, you've got a few extra vampires running around trying to suck you're blood, but you're used to that! You should be by now, anyway!" with one swift movement, he crushed the half-finished cigarette in the ashtray on the table beside his chair. "You've worked the better part of you're life helping people get rid of the bastards—no offence, needle noggin—and now all you can do is sit around moping, just because you've figured out you're gonna die! Yeah, well guess what? If all you're gonna do is sit around feeling sorry for yourself and not even make an effort to do something about it—like us, we're down here trying to figure out ways to help you and you were upstairs doing god knows what—you probably deserve what you get! You haven't proved yourself useful at all for a while, so maybe you are better off gone!!" His voice had raised to a shout, and when he was done, total silence enveloped the room.

Milly and Vash were staring nervously from one to the other, while the priest and vampire hunter remained glaring at each other like something fierce.

Slowly, however, Meryl's tight grip relaxed on the chair, and the armrests Milly had been briefly afraid her sempai was going to crush beneath her fingertips were released from the death hold.

Taking in a deep breath, Meryl closed her eyes, either sensibly contemplating the man's harsh words or getting ready to lunge with bloodlust clear in her eyes.

Vash waited tensely, his eyes now firmly locked on the petite woman as if he expected her to explode at any second.

Milly remained biting her lower lip, her hands clasped nervously before her as her eyes shifted from Wolfwood to Meryl.

And then, "You're right."

And the whole room gave an audible sigh.

A crooked grin spread across the priest's face, and he leaned back in his seat, clearly pleased with his success and near death experience. "See, short stuff? Wasn't so bad, was it?"

Meryl, however, wasn't that forgiving. "Be quiet Nick, and start talking about this brilliant idea of yours."

"I knew you'd see it my way."

And Vash and Milly were left to exchange puzzled glances, the happenings going on before them too unpredictable and strange for their likings. Though, of course, they had long since decided they were a strange group.

"So, the way I figure it, the only way to help you out, short stuff, is to do is go directly to the source." Wolfwood started abruptly, his voice holding a light note.

Vash shifted almost nervously in his chair. "The source?" he repeated slowly, his pallor seeming to increase tenfold.

Casting him an odd look, the priest nodded. "You should know, needle noggin. The source is either Knives himself or the castle where he lives. I'm leaning toward the castle at this point, after all, I haven't seen any head figures hanging around any vampires lately, so my guess is that the bugger's hidin' away in his castle."

A slight frown flickered over Milly's face. "Wasn't that what we were originally supposed to do…before we met Mr. Vash, of course. We were going to find the castle and get the serum."

"If it exists." Meryl shot in, looking slightly dubious.

"You never doubted it before, short stuff, why start now?" Nick sent her a peeved look. "Besides, that was what we were going to do, we were going to locate Purebrood, avoid all possible contact with the vamps and steal the serum before getting the hell outta there. You seemed pretty set on the idea."

The petite woman merely huffed. "That was a long time ago. Things can change from then and now, and it did."

Worrying her lower lip, Milly set her partner a cautious glance. "What are you saying, Sempai? Don't you think we should go to the castle?"

Meryl only averted her eyes and refused to answer the question. No one knew what she did. No one could know what she had seen. No one knew that she had seen him. They didn't have a clue as to what her dreams brought her, whose eyes constantly haunted her and whose voice whispered in every corner. No one knew she had seen him, seen Knives. Maybe, perhaps, except for Vash…

"Don't doubt it, short girl. It exists." The half-blood's voice broke through her thoughts, his voice low and serious. That was something she was becoming used to, the solemn graveness of everyone around her.

Her violet eyes snapped around quickly to meet his own. The aqua depths shone with something she didn't recognise, something she had only seen on certain bloodthirsty individuals. She gave him a piercing look, ignoring Milly and Wolfwood as they turned to stare at the half-blooded vampire. They had all but forgotten he was there. It was easy to do; he wasn't as loud as he had been when they first discovered him.

"What do you mean?" Meryl asked quietly, her vision attempting to break through the surface of his skin to see what he was really thinking. What was really going on in his mind?

"The serum, I said it exists." He repeated slowly, and suddenly, all the shadow that she had seen moments before was gone and in its place was a smiling man—a rather pale one—with eyes every bit human as they could get. "I mean, I've heard of it. I've been to the castle, you see, and they have it heavily guarded. And with all the rumours going around, one can only assume one thing."

Wolfwood jumped in, a lopsided grin on his face. "That it really is true and my faithful sources haven't cheated me out of all my money after all! It has to exist, and Knives, the bugger—has it guarded so well that no one can get near the doors!"

Meryl settled back down into her seat as the conversation took off in a whole different direction, Nicholas looking ecstatic about something that she wasn't paying attention to. Her mind was busy putting her through a guilt trip.

No one—at least no one human—knew what she knew.

_We don't have to go to Purebrood to find the Lord of the castle._ Meryl thought bitterly, _He's managed to find us instead…_

_--_

The next two days were merely a blur to Vash. As far as he knew—and he knew quite a bit—the two women and the priest hadn't devised any sort of plan, which only seemed to dishearten Meryl once more. She had taken to being more bitter than usual, snapping at him at every chance she got. Of course, she wasn't much better with Milly or Wolfwood, either.

The truth was, though, was that Vash was becoming edgy.

Nothing was happening. What had happened to that determination he had seen in Meryl and Wolfwood those two days ago?

What had happened to their motivation?

To him, it seemed to have vanished along with the ideas of actually _doing_ something about the short girl's condition. Well, Vash couldn't really say that, after all, the past two days they had all gathered in Meryl's living room to discuss a plan of action.

Too bad everyone's minds seemed to be blank…

Not only that, though, Vash was nervous about the fact that none of his daywalking friends had come to visit, or the nightcrawlers, for that matter.

That wasn't a bad thing, of course. It was actually a good sign. Well…it was a good sign to some, but not to Vash.

It made him anxious, the fact that nothing was happening.

Literally. He hadn't caught the slightest tinge of the presence of a vampire in the close proximity of the short girl's residence. And what's more, he hadn't seen anything. The only creatures lurking were alley cats.

What could they possibly be doing that was suddenly more important than trying to kill or otherwise maim his self-appointed charge—well, sort of charge? What could they possibly be planning? What were they going to do next?

Vash didn't know the answers to any of these questions, hence his current edginess. The daily meetings were going nowhere. He was tempted to suggest something of his own, but that would involve telling the whole truth: the truth about who he really was.

The half-blood wasn't prepared for that yet. He was just beginning to gain their trust again, and wouldn't throw it away now.

At the present time, Vash was sitting Meryl's living room, on "his" couch, which he had taken to taking long naps on. He only used the spare room at night, when he was too exhausted to stay on guard upon his couch.

It was dark in the room. It was chilly, a cool air that came at night when the hearth wasn't blazing merrily.

Vash was sitting ridged on the sofa, his eyes staring at some darkened shadow, not really seeing but registering in his mind that it was the far wall. He was gazing into space, although he wasn't thinking, oddly enough. In fact, his mind seemed completely void of any thoughts. There was only foreboding, a dark shadow closing in around his heart.

It hurt, but only vaguely.

And luckily, Vash had had enough experience with the feeling to know what exactly it was. He supposed there wasn't a fixed name, not many full fledged vampires felt it so it wasn't well known. The half bloods suffered the most.

He called it The Hunger. It was a sort of primal need that all his kind had. A sort of requirement, the equivalent of food to humans. While humans needed such things and food and drink to survive, vampires needed only one thing. Blood.

Something Vash currently lacked in large quantities. He had been starving himself, he hadn't tasted blood in over a month. It was becoming too long…

Such was the reason for the feeling, the dimness in his eyes, and the pallor of his face. They were the telltale signs that something was slowly taking over his rational thought. It was the dark half of Vash, the part he referred to as the Vampire. His human half was currently trying to subdue Vampire, but it wasn't having much success so far.

There was the reason for the sudden shaking of his hands, the abrupt trail of cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. It trailed down in small beads, stinging his eyes as his vision remained riveted on that one spot on the wall. That one spot that held his entire being, all of his concentration. Currently, that was the only thing that kept him with his saner human half.

A sudden noise from the kitchen registered in Vash's mind, and the a lamp lit up, sending golden light pouring through the entranceway to the living room. Meryl, he presumed, but tried to think no more of it. There were more noises, the banging of cupboard doors, the clacking of mugs and cups.

The half-blood fought for his control.

He felt it slipping.

The golden light was too prominent, like an itch at the edge of his vision. Something to be scratched.

Vash snapped, his dull aqua eyes shifting slowly from the shadows to the light. The cold sweat was all over his body now, a shudder running down his spine. He couldn't take it anymore. If only Meryl hadn't interrupted him, if only she had stayed upstairs in her bedroom, safe from him.

If only she had gone straight to sleep after he had bid her goodnight, after Milly and Wolfwood had left. If only she had been tired enough not to come back down…

There was a familiar whistling of a kettle, somewhere off in the depths of his mind as he fought for control.

If only, if only, if only! If only she hadn't decided she wanted a damned cup of tea!

Vash's worries were replaced with something different. They were traded with anger, hunger, his Vampire swapped for the Human, and now the only part of him that held any remote amount of control was buried deep beneath the dominating half.

Slowly, Vash lifted himself from the sofa, his cold sweat breaking and drying on his cold skin, his shaking hands wrapping into tight fists. Slowly, he made his way toward the light, toward the kitchen and Meryl. Meryl. Poor, poor Meryl, who nothing of what was going to happen next, who knew nothing of what was coming her way.

He could practically feel the pulse radiating from her. He could sense the blood in her veins, he could smell it, almost taste it and somewhere in the lost recesses of his mind, he knew it was wrong. Terribly wrong, but there was nothing to stop it.

And then, a simple, "Vash? What are you still doing up? Look, I know you're worried about vampires and stuff, but I just don't see anything happening in the next six hours, so try and at least get some sleep. You see a little pale as of late, maybe you should try and get some more rest." Meryl was standing in the doorway, her shadow causing a break in the golden light.

Vash stopped, his eyes lifting from the floor to meet hers. She stood there, a questioning look on her face, wondering why he was up, wondering just what exactly he was doing.

_Shorty, you don't know the half of it_ the half-blood thought, not sure if it was his dying human side or his bloodthirsty vampire side thinking. And then he figured he really didn't care…because he was so hungry and the short woman just happened to have the nicest pulse he had ever sensed.

And still, Vash was screaming for himself to stop, but even as he didn't answer and advanced on Meryl, he knew it wouldn't happen. He wasn't able to control himself, not with so much fresh blood pounding through live veins just meters away…

"Are you okay? Vash?" the small woman asked uncertainly, foolish enough to step forward.

_No, no, don't come any closer! Stay away!_ Vash's mind screamed, but no words came forth from his mouth. He wasn't able to warn her.

Meryl found out soon enough, though, about the time broomhead did a totally un-broomhead-like thing, something she had never seen him do and was quite sure he was ashamed to even mention.

He bared his fangs.

She had the unpleasant experience to actually see the things extend to three times their normal size and grow five times as pointy. That was the exact moment she understood what was happening.

_My eyes had never deceived me…broomhead really was more pale than what's healthy _Meryl thought to herself and narrowed her eyes, backing up slightly into the light of the kitchen.

Vash followed, his beautiful aqua eyes dull in the act of being a bloodthirsty monster. A snarl was on his lips, a low his was coming from his mouth.

Meryl was suddenly his with deja-vu from the time she had first met Vash back on the London streets some three weeks ago. How he had first tried to kill her, then tried to warn her, and how she had stabbed him. Had she ever apologized for that?

No, but the small woman pushed all her stray thoughts aside and concentrated on one thing and one thing only.

Vash, the vampire before her, currently looking menacing enough to count as a serious threat to her health.

She then came to a difficult decision and agreed on one thing.

Broomhead or no broomhead, he was a vampire and she was forced to treat this like any other situation involving bloodsuckers.

Eyes narrowing angrily, Meryl attempted to stare down the half-blood.

This was kill or be killed. Unfortunately, though, she had nothing to kill with, which put her at a serious disadvantage in their little game.

Pursing her lips, Meryl stated calmly, "You could have just told us you were weakening. Milly could have easily whipped up some sort of temporary antidote! But now look at what's happened, broomhead!"

--

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	21. Thoughts in the Head II

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame 

_Dialogue_ - thoughts

"Dialogue" - speaking

--

**Chapter 20**

**--**

Meryl backed herself up into the kitchen as Vash came charging at her. It occurred to the woman that she was in a _very_ bad situation, one that could very well come out as her being on the wrong end. The dead end.

She didn't like the way his eyes shone, the way they glinted in the light, just like a vampire's. But she had said to herself that she would treat him like any other bloodsucking demon straight from the depths of hell. She would kill or be killed, or avoid the killing part all together and settle for knocking him senseless before figuring out a way to get _Vash _back. The Vash that made stupid jokes, the one with the goofy smile and dopey attitude that seemed to annoy her to no end.

This certainly wasn't that Vash.

Narrowing her eyes, she went for the knives, all off them neatly lined up side by side in their large wooden block of a holder. She plucked the biggest one from the assortment, only turning her back for a second before turning with the newly formed weapon in her hand.

Unfortunately, it was too late by then. Within a matter of seconds, Meryl was stuck up against the counter, her back arched uncomfortably with both hands trapped, the knife twisted in her fingers and pinned painfully in the half-blood's grasp.

A burning sensation exploded in the back of her neck, one she knew all too well.

Just her luck, the damned _K_ was bleeding again.

_Stupid half-blood! _her mind yelled angrily, but the pain was overwhelming and any rage she might have had dissipated as the _K_ sent a knife-like stab of pain into her neck.

It felt as though her brain was about to explode.

Grimacing in pain with her teeth grinding together, Meryl forced back a rough scream. She wasn't frightened but more or so enraged. Well, enraged if she didn't feel so…violated and wasn't in so much pain. She felt more like a fool than anything…

…And that idiot broomhead was going to break her back if he didn't get the fuck off her right now!

Finding her anger in the midst of the waves of pain washing through her body, the petite woman ripped her unoccupied hand free from the vampire's grasp and used it to swing a good punch at Vash's face. Her knuckles hit him square in the jaw, and his head flew to the side, his dead eyes leaving her as his vision was distorted.

Quickly then, Meryl used this distraction to wrench her hand free from his grasp, the knife coming with her. She didn't even notice when the blade slid across the palm of his hand, creating a trail of blood in its wake.

Using what little force she had, the small woman shoved the half-blood away and unfurled her back from its painful angle before darting away from her opponent, the knife ready in her hand. She watched as Vash's initial shock of the punch faded, and the regular anger of a vampire took over. That was when she knew when to keep her distance and bare the sword before her.

Turning slowly, the half blood's eyes met hers, and Meryl saw the faintest flicker of recognition pass through their depths before it vanished and was buried beneath the monster that stood before her. She waved the blade threateningly at him, her stormy violet eyes narrowing dangerously. All those years of learning and practicing weren't going to be put to waste just because this one happened to be her friend. But that didn't mean she had to kill him, either. What was her profession good for if she couldn't also save lives in the process?

"Vash…" she said warningly as a low, completely vampire-like hiss emitted from the man's throat.

He only ignored her and bared his fangs, his bloodlust taking him over completely. The little, nagging voice in the back of his mind was momentarily restrained and the thought of blood replaced it. Sweet, warm blood, fresh from the body of a feisty target.

"I know you're in there, Vash." Meryl stated confidently, staying light on her feet and refusing to let her guard up. "Why don't you just settle down, and I promise Milly will be able to fix you up nice and good…"

Vash lunged.

He was amazing, she had never seen something move so fast, let alone a half-blood—that was one of the many brief thoughts that sped through her mind before she suddenly found herself in a tight grip, her arms pinned at her sides, the knife clattering to the floor, the half-blood's hot breath on her neck.

Meryl tried to struggle, but that only ended up with her being beaten senseless by the wall. Who ever knew they were so…_hard_? Now she didn't even have any breath to breath with, and what's more, she could feel Vash's bloodlust, his weakened energy radiating off him in waves as he felt his feeding time come closer.

Fighting the urge to just let her eyes roll back and fall into unconsciousness, Meryl did something she had found very effective in the past. She kneed him, in the stomach. Hard.

And—praise the lord—she suddenly found herself free as Vash stumbled back from her, gasping with his eyes, his dead eyes wide and unseeing.

The next movement she made was toward the discarded knife, but as Vash moved, quite accidentally, into her path, she decided there had to be something else. So, she went for the next best thing. The lantern, a sturdy glass box protecting a candle set firmly in place. It was glowing merrily despite the circumstances, sitting happily where she had left it last.

Meryl practically dove for the thing, snatching it up by its handle just as she sensed the vampire coming out of his daze. And boy was he every angry.

However, that wasn't her problem. She had no thought of including a hungry vampire's thoughts when he was going at her neck. So in her next move—completely disregarding Vash's later feelings on the action—swung around with the bedside lantern by its wiry handle right at the half-blood's head. It connected with a dull _thud_, completely throwing the blonde off balance and probably even knocking a few teeth loose. The force of the swing brought Meryl's small body around again and she spun for a second before coming back to her senses.

She let the lantern drop without another thought, and was surprised when there was no sound of breaking glass, gut a loud bang and a strange shift in the light. The candle lived on.

Meryl's next idea was to go for the knife again, but even as she turned, trying to find the weapon in the half-light, Vash had snatched her neatly off the ground.

It came as a slight surprise when she was slammed up against the wall. Not because she wasn't used to it by now. Of course not! This was happing all too much lately.

However, she hadn't expected him to recover that quickly from the lantern's blow.

But there he was, staring at her like some sort of wild animal, eyes wild despite their dullness, a feral snarl on his lips…and a stream of blood running down his chin from mouth.

If she hadn't known any better, Meryl would have almost thought he had already bitten her, or someone else, for that matter. After all, the only time she encountered vampires with bloody mouths was just after they had sucked someone dry.

Vash, however, was different. She knew that, and the sight of the blood brought her back to a cruel reality.

Vampires didn't bleed. Vash did, and she remembered that there was, in fact, a good-hearted man beneath the surface of the bloodthirsty one before her.

He didn't seem to want to make an appearance anytime soon, though.

The grip he had on her snapped her out of her thoughts, and the petite woman found herself dangling in the air again, arms pinned at her sides and no place for her to go. Not only that, though. Vash seemed really, _really_ hungry. And that definitely wasn't a good thing.

The pain in her neck was almost unbearable, too, sending shooting jolts of fire up and down her spine and rendering her muscles into useless, wobbly jellylike slabs of flesh.

"Vash…" she said lowly, warningly, as the half-blood drew closer, dipping his head down to bite her.

It didn't have any effect.

She tried again, wrestling weakling against him. "Vash! Let go of me!"

Meryl could feel his breath on her neck, and a flash of deja-vu passed through her again. She could feel her heart in her ears, pounding blood into her brain. It alerted her to the fact that she was indeed alive, and she had no desire to become a rotting corpse anytime soon.

"Stop!" she hissed, pushing at him weakly as her strength began to wane as the fire in her neck felt as though it was burning her to the bone and melting her skin. It sickened her. "Vash! Stop!"

By now it was quite clear that he had no intention of sparing her life.

Meryl closed her eyes to ward off the tears threatening to spill, and she felt him hesitate, felt his breath leave her neck for a moment as he seemed to think over his decision.

Vash's head was reeling with thoughts, and surprisingly…emotions.

That itch in the back of his mind was annoying him to a point of insanity. Yelling and crying like child, begging and pleading for him to stop, to stop this madness before he did something he regretted.

What was there to regret?

He was hungry, weak and sick of it. He was going to drop dead if he didn't have blood…and soon.

And still the voice was disagreeing, trying to persuade him to stop, to leave the woman before him, to let her free. But he wasn't going to listen. That voice, he recognized it, hated it. It was weak, wanting to spare the human woman. It sickened him.

_No! NO! Please…please!_ his mind was screaming now, but what were all the polite "pleases" for?

"No…no, please Vash." It was that damned woman again, beseeching him to let her go.

But he was so _hungry!_ How did these people expect him to live if he didn't have blood!? And the short woman's pulse! It was racing in her neck and throughout her body, the blood pumping eagerly through her veins…the mere thought of it sent him into a longing.

_Let her go, now! Let her go!!_ his mind was howling, and if it had been another person the vampire was sure they would have been pounding mercilessly on him. It was better, then, that the voice was trapped in the confines of his mind where it could be easily ignored.

A grim smirk flitted over his bloodied lips, and he leaned forward again, baring his fangs in a feral grin.

Meryl could feel them. She could feel him as his fangs touched her skin, not penetrating but ready. Something was holding him back.

_No, No, NO! Let her go you idiot, let her go!!_

Vash hesitated, merely to feel the pulse beneath him, to hear the ragged breath of his next victim. And, of course, to try and banish that itching and ultimately _annoying_ voice yelling at him to stop. Really, he wasn't that stupid. The moment he listened, he would be gone and that…human…half would be in control again. He couldn't let that happen now could he? He would starve himself to death just to see the people around him live.

"Vash…" Meryl tried again, trying to shay away from his fangs. Her voice was a mere whisper, but she was quite sure he could here her. In fact, she was positive.

Slowly, he brought her hands up to grasp his arms where they pinned her upper arms. "Vash…listen to me…" she whispered, trying to staunch the flow of tears threatening to overflow. It didn't work.

He could smell her tears. They were trailing down her cheeks to land on his neck and face. It was utterly disgusting. Shameful that he should let a human's tears touch him.

Yet, the voice in his head was still yelling. _Listen to her, fool! Let her go, don't bite her!_

"Don't you dare bite me!" the petite woman was saying, managing words bolder than she felt. "I swear, I'll never forgive you…I-I'll come back meaner than I am now and wont rest till you're dead!"

The vampire wanted so much to just bite her, just to shut her up. To see if she was so bold when the life was being taken from her. Unfortunately for him, something was holding him back, perhaps that damned voice. Perhaps hers. Something, though, made him pause in the act.

He hissed angrily.

Meryl squeezed her eyes shut to stop her tears, but they stung even under her eyelids.

"Stupid broomhead…I know you can hear me." She managed in a hoarse whisper, saying what she hoped would bring back Vash, not the man before her but the half-blooded fool she knew. "I know you're there. I can feel you. You're not gone. You can't I know you wont. Please, don't let me down."

Now, that hurt, Vash realized with a sort of half-strangled gasp, and he felt his fang abruptly shorten as if he was no longer hungry. He was, but not for her blood…for some reason not for her blood.

"Don't let me down, Vash…" Meryl whispered to him, tightening her slim hands on his arms.

Slowly, the half-blood raised his head, his head pounding angrily as both sides of him fought over control. Pulling back, he almost reluctantly met her eyes, and Meryl was slightly shocked by the colour.

A greenish blue so bright it could have put the Caribbean Sea to shame.

Bright. Alive.

Now it was quite clear who had won the battle.

Slowly, the blonde's grip on her arms loosened, and he let her down and stepped back with a look of horror on his face. He looked disgusted with himself, with what he had done. Meryl couldn't find her voice to say anything. Silent tears streamed down her face, and the sight of them only made Vash's look of self-loathing heighten.

"Meryl…" he said in a choked whisper, eyes filling with tears and spilling over.

She wasn't so much surprised at his tears than the sound of her name on his lips. It occurred to her she had never before heard him actually say her name, and once in a while she would question silently to herself if he even knew her name.

Now she knew he did.

"I'm so sorry…Meryl…" he sobbed, seeming to lose the strength to stand and sliding to the floor with his face hidden in his hands.

The petite woman could only watch him for a moment after she resolutely wiped the stray tears from her face. She had stopped crying sometime after he had fell to the floor. Now, he resembled a child weeping over a lost pet, or maybe a broken toy. The sight was pitiful, but somehow she managed to find some pity in her heart and approached him, albeit warily. When he didn't spring up with bloodlust firmly attached on his face, she carefully knelt down beside him.

"Vash…stop it." she said firmly.

He only shook his head, sobbing horridly into his hands. "I'm sorry! Please…please forgive me…"

Meryl did not answer. "I told, you. Get up." She repeated, this time more kindly.

Her voice, and the fact that she didn't seem to have any reaction to what had just happened only made Vash cry harder, his tears flowing steadily like a stream now. If she had run screaming, if she was beating on him now, if she had slid to the floor and sobbed like he was, it would have made him feel better than he did now. The silence broken by her calm voice was horrible.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Meryl took a deep breath. Then, she pulled his hands slowly from his face and gripped them firmly, almost painfully in her own. He looked up to regard her; bright eyes fogged over with tears and rimmed red. His tears were still falling freely. He sniffled lightly, searching her face for some sort of explanation.

When none, came, he opened his mouth to apologize again, but was cut off.

"I told you to get up, Vash. Now." She repeated for the third time, her voice steeled against him, as well as her face.

He did, struggling weakly for his footing as the small woman dragged him up. Then, without word, she snatched up the lantern and used her free arm to support him. As if her small body would have made a difference if he suddenly collapsed.

Pulling him along with her, she lead him into the hallway, ignoring the stairs.

For one panicked moment, Vash thought she was going to lead him to the door and force him out onto the streets. But she didn't. They stopped at the spare bedroom, where the half-blood had slept when he had first arrived.

Face somewhat grim, Meryl opened the door and helped the weak vampire through. Then, setting the lantern on the nearby dresser, she let Vash's arm free and went to the bed. After pulling the covers back from their neat arrangement, she turned to look at him, her face still closed to any emotion.

They simply stared at each other for a while, both waiting for the other to speak.

The small woman was the one to break the silence with a weary sigh. "What are you waiting for, broomhead? A time machine? Nothing's going to change what just happened, so I suggest you get in the bed and stop worrying yourself. It'll save us both a lot of pain."

Vash continued to stare at her for a while longer, a look of bemusement on his sorrowful face before obeying. He sat on the bed, but didn't lay down.

"Aren't…aren't you going to say something?" he asked after a moment.

Meryl took the lantern from the dresser and plopped it onto the nightstand by the bed. Then, crossing her arms over her chest, she eyed him.

"What's there to say?"

Vash's eyes glittered for a moment, his gaze purposefully avoiding her own. "I…I_ am_ sorry, you know that."

"I know that." Meryl nodded, her face still a mask, her cloudy grey eyes barred from any insight.

"I don't know…what happened." The half-blood said lowly, his voice weak as well as his strength.

Meryl sighed again and uncrossed her arms in exasperation. "I'm used to it, broomhead. Bloodsuckers are at my throat all the time. You can beat yourself over the head all you want but it wont make a difference, just remember that." She closed the space between them and gently gasped his shoulders, turning him and pushing him down onto the bed. "You're not deaf, are you?"

"No." Vash responded, eyed suddenly very heavy. He didn't protest as he was forced to lay down.

"Well, in that case, I assume you just have selective hearing." Rolling her eyes, Meryl pulled the covers down more and Vash obeyed the silent command and pulled his feet up onto the bed. It was lucky he already had his oversized nightclothes on, or she would have left then. But she didn't, and instead covered him, eyes softening slightly as she noticed his own were half-lidded. Heavy with sleep, she guessed. "Now go to sleep. Don't wake up any earlier than you feel you have to, and I'll have Milly come over with something to…help you out."

Vash shifted under the covers, his voice soft. "What do you mean?" he managed to ask.

Deciding to sit on the side of the bed, Meryl looked down at him. "Milly's very good with medicine. She doesn't like the hunt so much as she likes to work with medicine and vaccines. She's my partner for other reasons, you know, not just to blow people away with her huge gun. She's pulled me out everything from near death to common fevers through the years." The small woman explained patiently, not knowing why, exactly, she was telling him so much.

Forcing down a yawn with a deep breath, Vash shook his head tiredly, "Normal medicines wont help me at all, short girl."

Pointedly ignored the nickname he had given her, Meryl stood up and leaned over him. "I never said she worked with human medicines, broomhead. She was the one who developed my silver bullets and makes my stakes. She knows more about mystical antidotes, poisons and serums than she does on human diseases and sicknesses."

Vash didn't respond, and she noticed his eyes were closed, his face now completely relaxed. The small woman regarded him for a moment, an odd expression falling over her face before she carefully leaned down. Cautiously, waiting for him to wake at any moment, she stroked his forehead and trailed her fingers into his mussed blonde hair. It was flopping hopelessly around his face and the pillow.

Meryl allowed herself a small smile before she took up the lantern and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Tonight she would have to be extra careful. With Vash out like he had been knocked over the head with a boulder, who knew what could get into her house.

--

In the midst of darkened shadows, something moved.

A flash of ice blue glinted in the streetlamp's distant light, and a short, barking laugh followed quickly.

"Fool." Muttered a voice, but anymore words were cut off as a second person joined the first.

"Are we almost ready, Master?" a deep voice asked, and icy blue eyes turned to stare at another.

"Almost…" there was a slight pause. "Give it a day at the most. If they seem to be starting anything before that, you know what to do."

"Yes, my lord." The second person moved off as the first gave a feral smile.

"Crushed are the spiders that interfere with my plans."

--

Meryl dreamt that night as Vash slept feverishly in the spare room and shadows crept around the streets, avoiding the light given off by meagre streetlamps. It hadn't occurred in a while, and the mark on the back of her neck bled freely as the nightmare proceeded.

_It was dark everywhere, so dark. Everything was an inky, pure black. There was no light to be spared. _

_And it was cold. Freezing cold, like the depths of hell had been iced over. Now she stood in its depths. _

_Alone._

_She didn't want to be here…but…_

_She couldn't remember…_

_…How had she gotten here? The memory was too far away._

_One minute she had been…_

_…wait…where had she been, again? Someplace warm, someplace safe? She didn't know anymore…_

_All she knew was that she was here now._

_Here…where was "here." She was warming to the idea of a deadened hell, reserved just for her._

_For the world, she didn't know why, though._

_But it was dark…and she was running, her cloak flapping wildly, loudly behind her. _

_Running from what? _

_To where?_

_She could feel the ragged breath in her throat, the frozen air biting at her lungs and stinging her face._

_There was no moon in this place, but still she could make out where she was going._

_There were trees in the darkness; she knew they were there. It was just so dark. Silence engulfed her, but her heavy breathing warded it off, the pounding of her heart a deafening thump in her chest. The blood was pounding ceaselessly in her ears, muffling the sounds of her on feet. _

_The noise she made was warning the inky, thick blackness not to come any closer…_

_It obeyed, understanding she was reserved for another._

_There were footsteps, cracking…_

_Was there something behind her?_

_Yes, she could sense it its presence, its feet moving quickly, lightly on the forest floor._

_A forest. She was in a forest. This was no hell. No hell she had ever heard of had trees._

_Trees whizzed quickly past her moving form, or were the trees the ones really moving?_

_No, she was the one running._

_Running from what? To nowhere? In a place where there was no moon?_

_The trees and bushes cleared. They thinned into a field. _

_It was so dark._

_But she could see…_

_How could she see in this darkness, though, with this blackness all around her?_

_But it was there._

_The field was neat; the grass was trimmed, short, and tough. She looked back into the inky darkness. She could see it jump into the field. Cloaked in black, it was perhaps darker than the night. _

_What was it??_

_Why wouldn't it leave??_

_She didn't know, but she did know she had to get away…_

_Some underlying urge was pushing her on._

_But it was so dark, and she didn't know where she was…!_

_Blue._

_Wait, what was that??_

_Eyes._

_Cold, blue eyes._

_Hating blue eyes that glared out from the darkness…_

_Just looking at them made her feel cold, colder than she already was. Plunged into a bath of freezing water…_

_She looked forward._

_Too late._

_There it was, standing there and staring hatefully at her. A mere shadow in the pale light._

_A mere shadow that held so much anger, so much hopeless hate and revulsion…she stopped abruptly, wanting to get away._

_She turned, trying to run away. But there it was again, icy blue eyes glaring manically out at her._

_He was clothed in a dark cloak and hood._

_Wait._

_He…?_

_Her breathing too loud in her ears, she turned again…_

_Thumping, thumping, thumping…her heart was thumping louder than before._

_Threatening to burst from her chest._

_She turned. Met by icy cold eyes. She had never encountered such hate._

_Wanting to get away, she ignored him, running past him…giving him a wide berth…_

_…searching frantically for a way out…_

_He was there in front of her, staring._

_She needed to get away!_

_But he moved, walking toward her._

_Blue eyes surrounded her, crushing her mind and filling her with hate._

_It hurt…!_

_She whirled, running away, coldness engulfing her._

_But he was there, staring at her, glaring at her._

_She backed away, avoiding the eyes…_

_She wouldn't look. He wouldn't see._

_He stepped forward, pushing his hood back._

_She could see his shadow on the field, tall, imposing._

_It was so cold; she didn't want to look at him. She turned; ready to run, but he confronted her._

_Even in the darkness, even by the dim light originating from nowhere, she could see his face…_

_It scared her._

_It was too familiar._

_…It looked like Vash's…_

_Vash…was he…?_

_No, it couldn't be…_

_She tried to yell, tried to get away, but those icy, hating blue eyes held her._

_Vash didn't have blue eyes…He didn't hate her…_

_Did he?_

_Did he?_

_Didn't he?_

_She wanted to run, she needed to get away from him!_

_She did, ran across the rough grass, the stalks hurting her feet._

_Her bare feet…_

_She dared to look back, dared to see him again…_

_He wasn't there._

_She turned forward…_

_Aqua._

_Bright Aqua eyes staring out at her from under a hood. Identical to the one the other man wore…_

_Stopping now, she stared. She recognized them…Vash…it was Vash, she was sure._

_He pulled back his hood, smiling happily at her. He looked so much like the other man…but it wasn't him._

_This was Vash._

_She was walking now, her feet moving without her accord. She was smiling too, opening her arms to welcome him._

_Vash smiled at her._

_She stopped abruptly, fear in her chest._

_Did he? _

_Did he?_

_Did he?_

_Didn't he?_

_But didn't he hate her??_

_She stopped. She stared at him, wondering what her thoughts were doing. Trying to betray her?_

_Still, Vash smiled. She watched, anxious, wanting to say something. Her voice wasn't there._

_No voice._

_Vash smiled, his eyes warm. They threatened to melt the cold around them. She wanted to move, to go see him._

_Her legs did not obey._

_And Vash smiled. She thought it odd he would smile for so long._

_Then she found out why._

_Blue._

_Blue eyes, she didn't see them. She sensed them, but by then it was too late._

_The man with cold, blue eyes had stabbed her in the shoulder. And there was pain, enormous amounts of pain. Her vision was foggy, but she could still see Vash. She watched as the blue eyed man walked to join him, and they both were looking at her now._

_So alike…_

_She managed to pull the knife from her shoulder, but how she had no clue. It was in her hands now, though, bloodied and dripping red._

_There were initials on the knife._

_Two sets of initials…she thought that strange. But the pain was overwhelming. Warm blood was dripping down her back, tickling her as it went. It was warding off the cold._

_She looked at the initials: K. Saverem and V. Saverem. She already knew the that one was Knives's. Knives…_

_The two before her, one smiling, one frowning._

_Vash and…Knives? They looked so similar…she started to walk away._

_She was backing up, her eyes on the two…the two brothers…warm blood seeping into her clothes, trailing down her back._

_Vash and Knives Saverem. Brothers._

_Vash was smiling warmly at her. Did he? Did he hate her?_

_The ground behind her suddenly let away, leaving nothing but air, nothingness. _

_A cliff…she hadn't realized there was a cliff…_

_She didn't even scream as she fell, down into darkness._

_She was too shocked…_

_--_

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	22. Calm in the Beginning I

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame

--

**Chapter 21**

**--**

Meryl awoke with a start, the vision of a black abyss still imprinted in her vision. For a moment in which she struggled in her sheets, grappling for a wound that wasn't there, she couldn't see anything. The room was dim, the curtains had been drawn and it was clothed in shadows, but that wasn't it. She couldn't see.

Vaguely, some memory of the dream had trailed back with her from the dream world, and one stood out terribly from the rest—seeking to be seen, aching to be sought out.

The small woman was in a panic. A smile was imprinted in her mind, cruel and hating.

She struggled to gain control of her sight as her shoulder ached and her hand fisted in her nightshirt over the nonexistent wound. Short, gasping breaths burst from her mouth, and her lungs were aching as her shoulder did, as if they had been slashed open in a similar fashion.

Finally, with a strangled intake of air, Meryl flung the confining bedspread from herself and shot up on her bed.

The sound of her heartbeat pounding uncontrollably in her ears coupled with the rasping breaths escaping her mouth were the only sounds in the room.

No one was there; no one had been there.

The black blots in her vision were clearing, and the small woman became aware of her surroundings. Her bed, the floor, the fireplace, the tangled sheets and blankets at her feet…the emptying ache subsiding from her shoulder, the slow trickle of cooling blood running a path down the back of her neck.

Blinking rapidly now, Meryl pulled the side of her shirt down to expose her shoulder. There was nothing but the milky-whiteness of her skin. No abrasions, no blood. She shivered, pulling the shirt back up and reached a trembling hand around to the back of her neck. Gingerly, she ran a finger along the slick path and brought it to her face to examine the substance.

In the think light, she could still distinguish its darkness, its redness.

Blood.

The dream came flooding back to her as if some sort f mental dam in her mind had been broken. Thoughts, doubts, revelations, questions, fears, hopes, bewilderment, mysteries, uncertainties. Words and visions flooded through her mind and swirled around like a whirlpool.

_Blue eyes, green eyes. Hope, fear. Good, evil. Smiles, eyes._ _Vash and Knives, Vash and Knives. Saverem. Both vampires…both blonde…they look exactly alike…except for the eyes…and the smiles…_

Almost absently, Meryl wiped her hand on the nightshirt and with shaky legs, pushed off her bed and made her way to the door. She pulled it open with an unusual force and ignoring the sound of it slamming against the wall. She was already halfway down the hall, in the bathroom.

Snatching up the lantern from the side of the sink, she fiddled with the candle, plucking up a box of matches and striking it shakily. A moment later, a bright light banished the darkness and the mirror before her displayed a ruined woman with bloodshot eyes.

She set the lantern down and grabbed the nearest towel. Running the fabric across the wound on her neck, she watched in the mirror as it came back red.

Blood.

"Wretch…" she whispered, voice cracking lowly. Who she referred to was lost on even her.

Cleaning the K carefully, waiting for the blood to clot by the toilet with naught but a lantern to keep her company and a bloody towel in her hands, Meryl felt ten years older than she felt. Maybe twenty…

The small woman made her way back to her room, shut the damaged door and straightened her bedspread before falling asleep under the covers.

She didn't wake again until sunrise.

When Meryl woke up it was daylight, and she was feeling unusually disoriented. Her room was bathed in light. The curtains were almost glowing as the sun fought to make its way in.

But she could still hear the _pitter-patter_ of raindrops as they slid down her windowpane.

She made her way downstairs, fully dressed, after making a quick stop in the washroom to check on her lovely little K.

The floorboards creaked loudly under her slight weight, and Meryl couldn't help but feel slightly anxious about the dead silence in her house. Last time she had checked, there had been a boisterous half-blooded, near insane vampire (out for her blood) that had somehow managed to make his home here, traipsing around like he didn't have a care in the world. Except, of course, the face that he was near drained of energy and patience.

_And_ he had a brother named Knives who was _quite _insane.

The wheels in Meryl's mind began to creak into motion. _That's right, I have to go find Milly today…and once he's back to his normal self, I'll pump the little sneak for answers …_ she thought wryly, allowing herself a sly grin.

Oh yes, Meryl wasn't usually very devious, but when she was…you'd better watch out.

Slowly, the petite woman entered the kitchen, the main focus of her scuffle with Vash last night.

The sight that met her was less than…normal. Maybe even disturbing.

Vash, acting as though nothing was out of the ordinary, was _sitting_ at her kitchen table, _drinking _a cup of tea…_reading_ the newspaper. And with that stupid floppy blonde hair of his…and those bloody pyjamas! The perfect picture of innocence.

It was a good thing his back was to her, or he would have had the misfortune of seeing the completely murderous look that passed over the petite woman's face before she caught herself and pulled her wits back together.

_Definitely _not _normal_ Meryl though, somewhat bothered.

She took another step into the room. The wooden panel under her foot creaked loudly, and she could have sworn she saw Vash jump slightly. Quickly, he dropped the newspaper and turned in the chair.

Meryl's eyes met his with a clash of sudden anger.

Vash blinked slightly, puzzled. "Good morn—" he began, but was cut off by the petite woman.

"Be quiet." She said.

Vash cocked his head at her, his floppy blonde hair falling over his eye. "Okay…" he eyed her slightly. "Did you know there's a group of vampires tormenting a shopkeeper just twenty minutes from here? It's in the newspa—" he was interrupted swiftly by Meryl, who stared at him stonily.

"Get up." She commanded, making her way further into the kitchen, ever one her guard. After last night…after the dream…

"What?" Vash gazed at her with confusion.

"I said, get up!" Meryl repeated, her voice hard.

He did so, slowly, and when he was standing at his full height, a good foot taller than Meryl, he began meekly, "Look, if this is about last night, I—"

He was cut off again, but this time because of Meryl's fist. It connected with his cheek with a loud _smack_, and he stumbled and fell back heavily into his chair.

Meryl rubbed her knuckles as his hand came up to cover his cheek. His green eyes looked up at her with a mixture of confusion, sadness and pain. She stared back at him silently, her stormy eyes cold and hard.

"What was that for??" he demanded, and she could have sworn there were tears in his eyes.

Meryl ignored it. "For absolutely nothing." She stated harshly, giving him one last glare before making her way into the living room. She didn't have all day to sit around and chat. Today she had a purpose. She was going to Milly's and Milly was _going_ to make her a serum for Vash. Then she would make her way home, maybe stop by at that shopkeepers…or maybe not. But she would make it home. And after the stupid vampire had taken the serum and relieved himself somewhat of his hunger, she would then proceed to get answers. In any way necessary.

She set about gathering her necessary things for a hunt. If she was going out, there were definite precautions to take.

Behind her, Vash gave his cheek a delicate rub. Really, he would have been fine with a slap. Slaps were good; they hurt less than a punch. They hurt less than _her _punch.

Slowly, he stood up from the table and following Meryl into the living room. He had no idea what she was up to now, but he didn't like it nonetheless. The short girl was acting…strange…

He came upon Meryl sorting through a few objects on the coffee table. "What are you doing?" he asked, almost meekly.

Meryl turned, a frown adorning her face. In her hand was a stake.

Involuntarily, Vash backed away slightly. In his eyes was a wary look.

Meryl couldn't help a grim snort of laughter at the half-blood's antics. "I'm not going to stake you, if that's what you mean." She stated shortly, and shoved the wooden weapon into a belt at her waist. She snatched up three more from the table and placed them side-by-side in her belt.

Vash watched her, stepping forward again as she turned her back and made her way to the wall by the hearth. There, he noticed, hung several strings of garlic. He hadn't seen those before…he was lucky he was only a half-blood. His human side allowed him to withstand such things as garlic, but not stakes or silver.

"Where are you going, then?" he rephrased the question.

"Out." was her short reply.

He watched as she seemed to contemplate taking a string of garlic cloves. Eventually she shook her head, muttering something like "they smell too strong, anyway."

"Out where?" he pried

Meryl turned, exasperation written all over her face. "Outside." She stated, terribly unspecific.

Vash shook his head in refusal. "It's not safe." Was she a fool, or just trying to get herself killed?

Whirling on him, eyes narrowed angrily, the petite woman snarled. "And you propose it's safer in here than out there?"

Vash winced. It was a clear denotation of last night. Still, though, he stood by his opinion. "Yes." He replied, green eyes suddenly cool.

Her stormy grey eyes clashed angrily with his calm green ones, and she stood silently for a moment in a demure standoff. Whose will would crumble first? she wondered idly.

Finally, she spoke. "I'm going out and you are staying right here, broomhead." Her voice was calm, but behind it was a hard wall of stone. She wasn't going to back down. He was only a half-blood.

"If you're going outside, I'm going with you." The blonde was persistent, but Meryl merely swept past him.

How could she trust someone who was related—who was a brother to Knives, the very man who was trying so very hard to kill her? She couldn't.

Vash followed diligently as Meryl rushed through the kitchen, into the hallway and made her way to the front door. Her cloak and boots sat neatly, waiting loyally for her use. She was sweeping the gun-loaded outer garment around her shoulders by the time he came to a stop behind her.

"You're not coming, Vash." She said simply, slipping her feet into her boots. "Not only will you be no use to me, I have no need for you to come, nor do I have a want for you to come."

"But—" the blonde started.

"If I even have the slightest thought that you are following me, Vash, you'd better start running." She frowned, securing her cloak as she turned to face him once more. "I have one hundred little silver bullets just waiting to be used up." She glared ominously at the blonde. He stood there, completely clueless to what she knew, to what she thought and doubted. He stood there in his pyjamas, looking as though he had just rolled out of bed, pale as a white sheet and too weak to do anything worthwhile. And yet, he was still willing to come with her.

"Idiot." Meryl muttered, and turned away from the disappointed man, pulled open her front door and stepped outside.

She didn't look back as she slammed it in his face.

--

Milly was in the middle of a late morning breakfast when she heard the knock on her door. For a moment, she merely sat there, wondering whom it could be. Mister Wolfwood hadn't said anything about dropping by today for a visit…who else was there? Mrs Smith down the lane might need help with her cat again, or maybe old Mr Jones next door, he might need someone to run some errands for him. But they would usually give her a fair warning if they were going to ask something of her…unless

She shot up from her table, abandoning her eggs and toast to answer the door. Sempai, it had to be sempai. But what in the world was she doing way over here, unless she was in great need of help. What if something when wrong??

The tall woman wrenched open the front door, and sure enough, there was Meryl with her knuckles poised to knock once more.

"Sempai! What are you doing outside! It's dangerous!" Milly exclaimed, pulling the short woman inside before slamming the door shut and locking it. She whirled around to face her partner, eyes wide. "What's wrong sempai! Have the vampires invaded you're home?? Where's Mr Vash!?? Why isn't he with—"

Meryl seemed to wilt slightly under her barrage of questions, but held up a hand for silence when her partner showed no signs of halting.

"Nothing's wrong, Milly." She said calmly, a hint of a smile on her face.

Milly's brow instantly furrowed. "But…why are you here? Without Vash?"

Meryl shook her head slightly, unclasping her cloak and removing her boots. "I have a slight problem, Milly, and I think you're just the person to help me." She said elusively.

"A problem, sempai?" the taller woman asked hesitantly.

Meryl nodded. "I think it's better told sitting down, though…" she watched as Milly nodded instantly and turned on her heel back to the kitchen.

"Sempai! You wouldn't believe how scared I was that something was happening. You're not supposed to be outside alone! Vampires are everywhere, attacking people and harassing them! It's a miracle they didn't find you on you're way over!" Milly explained as they reached the kitchen. She took a seat where her unfinished breakfast lay. She pushed the plate aside.

Meryl surveyed the food. "I interrupted you're meal, didn't I?" she guessed.

Milly merely waved her off. "It must be very important if you're here without Vash." She said. "Did you leave him behind, or is he in trouble? Can I help? Is this about what Wolfwood said the other day?"

Rolling her eyes, Meryl folded her hands on the table. "Finish you're breakfast Milly. And don't worry. I'm fine, nothing immediately life threatening had made it's way to my end quite yet. And its not about the priest…actually, I was surprised he wasn't here with you."

Reluctantly, Milly speared a piece of her egg with a fork. "Oh, its nothing, sempai. He's busy with something…although I have no idea what. He's a very strange man, don't you agree?" she smiled at her partner.

"He's a priest, Milly." Meryl arched an eyebrow at her friend. "All priests are strange."

The taller woman gave a short shrug, making a sound of agreement or denial. It could have been either.

"Bit I didn't come here to discuss Nicholas's occupation, what he does with his free time, because I can't really be bothered." Meryl started again. "I have a rather…tedious half-blood on my hands at the moment."

"Tedious, sempai?" Milly asked innocently.

Deciding to come flat out, the short woman took a deep breath. "He's got the hunger, Milly. I need something, anything, to calm him down a bit."

Milly's blue eyes instantly seemed to harden, and she set her fork down. "Mr. Vash is a good person, sempai."

Pursing her lips, Meryl regarded her partner with slightly narrowed eyes. "I know that, Milly. But even the most….noble bloodsucker, even a half-blood, can't resist the bloodlust for long." She unclasped her hands and tapped her fingers on the table. "He's about dead on his feet, Milly. Completely useless. That's part of the reason I didn't take him with me on my way here. He would slow me down, I'm sure…"

The taller woman stayed silent for a moment, her light blue eyes regarding her partner intently. Meryl couldn't hide anything from her. It was useless.

"What has he done?" Milly asked finally.

Once more, Meryl's eyebrows were raised. "I should have known you'd see right through me." She muttered, a wry smile flitting over her face.

"Sempai, things have grown much darker over the past weeks. You know it, I know it. There's something about Vash, we can both see it. Though, I'm not going to deny he's a good person, because I sincerely believe he is. I'm worried for him, for you. Even for Mr. Priest. London's never been so dark…"

Meryl seemed to age right before Milly's eyes, and a moment later she spoke up, her voice weary. "He attacked me last night, Milly." Slowly, she pulled down the collar of her shirt to show an array of ugly bruises forming across her skin. "It's too strong for him, he looks so dead…like a vampire." In her eyes, there was indecision on whether to say any more. But she had had enough of hiding things from her friends. "Not only that, though…I know who he is now."

Milly stayed silent, patiently waiting for her friend to continue.

"Over the past weeks…I can't remember when they first started…when I first saw him I imagine," Meryl took a deep breath. "_He_, Knives, whatever you want to call the bastard, he's been in my dreams. They were nightmares, really, horrible dreams about me running through a forest, a field. And then I would see him—more specifically his eyes…" she stopped to stare at her partner. "Have you ever seen the eyes of a murderer?"

Milly shook her head mutely.

Meryl smiled a grim smile. "I had the strange feeling I'd seen them before. But something was different about them….the ones in my dreams were cold blue, while the ones I remember were green, like the sea." She paused for a moment, closing her eyes to finish her story. "And then he revealed himself, and he _looked_ familiar. And just last night, I figured it out, Milly."

The taller woman's brow was deeply knotted as she waited for her friend to continue.

"Knives looks almost exactly like his brother. Vash and Knives look so similar, but you can tell they're the exact opposite. Knives is nothing like Vash…he's too cold. He's too evil, the pure epitome of what a _real_ vampire should be."

Milly swallowed audibly, and Meryl continued with her hands balled up into fists.

"Milly, Vash has been deceiving us this entire time, I know he has. And now he's so weak without blood, I can't beat the living daylights out of the bastard until I know he isn't going to jump me in the middle of a conversation!" Meryl growled angrily, her grey eyes once again finding Milly's. "I need you to make a serum to sustain him. He's very dangerous, but not quite gone. I can't trust him right now. Do you understand?"

The tall woman nodded solemnly and stood up with her plate in her hands. The chair behind her screeched on the wooden floor, a welcome break in the tense air about the room.

"I'll do it, Meryl. And after Mr Vash is back to his normal self we'll do something about Mr Knives. I promise." Milly declared boldly, depositing her half-full plate in the kitchen sink before motioning Meryl to follow her.

The petite woman knew exactly where they were going. It was a place only herself and Nick had the pleasure of seeing, where Milly's true part in the partnership of vampire hunting shone true. The tall woman led Meryl to a door just out of the kitchen, and upon opening it, revealed a set of stairs leading down into the darkness. Milly turned to smile at Meryl with a sheepish expression.

"Sorry, sempai. I haven't been down here in a while. Could you grab the candle for me?"

Meryl rolled her eyes, thankful for the woman's unique ability to break unbearable restraints of tension.

--

Vash paced Meryl's living room with a step equivalent of an animal on the prowl. He had dressed not long ago, had managed to spike his unruly blonde hair into his usual style, just to get a sense of what he had once been. He had cleaned himself up, determined over something, what he wasn't quite sure, and hadn't stopped his constant walking since then.

Maybe he was worried.

_Yes_, he _was_ worried. He was worried over the short girl, over her fiery disposition and stubborn nature. That it was going to get her in trouble—as if she already wasn't in any!

For the tenth time since she had left in a rush that morning, he glanced out the front window and onto the dreary London streets. The shadows were plentiful today…daylight had long since ceased its fight against the rain clouds, and the afternoon was dripping wet and ominous. The city lay in silence this day.

And not for the last time, Vash felt a familiar tug at his chest, urging him not to dawdle any longer despite the petite woman's threat.

Why had he listened, anyway? Wasn't he the one who could dodge anything that was thrown at him, the one who could defeat five vampires with little trouble, the one who had saved countless people over and over from the grips of his very own people? Wasn't he the betrayer, who had actually found a purpose in his life, if not a bleak one? Wasn't he Vash? Vash _Saverem, _brother to Knives. The very man who was after the short girl at this very moment?

Wasn't he the one to stop it all? Why couldn't he?

Why wasn't he?

The question wasn't answered, as the tall blonde man was out the front door before it had the proper time to form in his mind.

--

Meryl watched in slight awe as she watched her partner work her magic once more. She had lit the ten candles throughout the basement room, revealing a dank place bordered on every side by dark stone walls. There was a window peeking up to the ground level, and on sunny days when they were younger there had been no need for candles.

Bookshelves of every size balanced on three of the four walls, a ladder propped up against one. Every shelf was packed unmercifully with books thick and thin, old ones and newer editions. In the centre of the basement, several tables littered with documents and manuscripts. Several odd beakers were lined up, too, and a large collection of jars sat silently with their labels, waiting to be used.

On the one bare wall left, where the stairs interrupted the perfect surface of the stones, an assortment of weapons ranging from crossbows to stakes to swords and guns were hung for display.

A thin layer of dust seemed to coat the whole room, a testament to the time that hadn't been spent there. An indication that the place hadn't been used for a long while.

Currently Milly was sorting through a bunch of old papers, and Meryl stood with a candle at her side.

"I haven't been down here since that new addition, the silver coated bullets, made their way into you're derringers, sempai. I guess there hasn't been a real need…" she pushed a roll of papers away and a smile brightened her face. "Ahah! Here it is, sempai. Just what I was looking for, although I'm not sure if it will work. The man who wrote this section never got to test the serum out."

Meryl peered down at the book, looking at it's worn pages. "Why not?" she questioned slowly.

Milly turned to regard her with wide blue eyes. "Well, a vampire killed him before he ever completed it. Apparently, they had gotten wind of his experiments and had decided to stop it. It wasn't natural, after all." She stated knowingly.

The petite woman regarded her sceptically. "And being a vampire is natural?"

Milly laughed lightly. "Good point, sempai." She picked up the volume and moved it to a non-cluttered section of the table. Meryl followed diligently with the candle held close to her.

"What's it say?" Meryl tried to peer over her tall friend's shoulder, but to no avail.

Milly tapped the page lightly. "Sodium, potassium, phosphorus, calcium, copper and zinc mixed at a moderately high temperature with the element hydrogen form a compound not unlike blood…that should satisfy the craving of a vampire for at least three days…" she paused slightly, a light smile on her face. "And with Mr. Vash, is should last twice as long because he's only half-breed!"

Meryl arched an eyebrow at Milly's back, clearly confused. This was one of the reasons she left the "chemistry" of vampire hunting to Milly. Her whole family had a sort of history with science.

Now Milly was browsing through the many jars collected on the table, muttering lightly. "Now…if my big, big brother was right, this should be zinc, and big sister said that sodium was the white one…"

The petite woman set the candle down and peered through the dirtied window to the outside. It looked dark and dreary, typical of England in spring. She couldn't shale the ominous feeling, however, and pulled up a chair to sort her thoughts and feelings out. Leave the chemistry to the chemists and leave the thinking to the thinkers…

_Can't say I like the feeling today…_ she thought idly to herself, her mind wandering.

Milly began to gather the ingredients to her so called "serum" while Meryl swayed in and out of daydream land.

Outside, shadows were gathering.

--

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	23. Calm in the Beginning II

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame 

**--**

**Chapter 22**

**--**

Nicholas D. Wolfwood liked to call himself a clever guy. He was smart, good looking, he had a nice house and loyal friends…a bad past…the life of preacher to make up for his numerous sins. He was helping rid the world of any evil entities that called themselves vampires, and what he had to show for it was the forgiveness of God and a prayer for his people.

He supposed it was enough. Or, it had been enough.

_Dear Lord,_

And some things just didn't go away. Some things just didn't want to fade with the passing of time and lives. Sometimes, they stayed and would not stop their constant haunting. They would not be put to rest without force.

_If I have wounded any soul today, _

_If I have put one foot astray_

_If I have walked in my own will full way_

_Good Lord, forgive…_

Nicholas liked to call himself a clever guy because of the things he had survived and the types of people he had met. Evil, greed. Pure sin. He had once been a part of it all, living with those who enjoyed it and was stuck in the midst of it all. He had learned better, though. They had passed him by, and quite soon, he had been the only one with any sense in him whatsoever. They had been turned and he still stood. Alive.

_If I have uttered idle words or vain If I have turned aside from want or pain_

_Lest myself should suffer through the strain_

_Good Lord, forgive…_

Some time ago, before the life he had the pleasure of living now, Nick had found within himself what he liked to call a conscience, one that any such people, dead or alive, around him, lacked to the fullest. And he had realized his sins, his mistakes and life. And he sought to bury them, to have them forgiven. And he had, or so he had thought.

He had met the two girls, and then everything had come crashing back down on him like a ton of bricks. Mercilessly, hard. Fate was not on his side, he knew. But he helped, anyway. He helped to help _himself_ and rid himself of memories that needed to be smashed and buried.

_If I have craved for joys that are not mine_

_If I have let my wayward heart repine_

_Dwelling on things of earth, not things Devine_

_Good Lord, forgive…_

And now, look where it had gotten him. Almost back where he had started, back in the same situation. Back in the same bloody place where he had started out, and the only thing he had to show for his hard work was better company. He liked to call himself clever, but he was really a fool, he knew.

Time did not erase old ghosts, he knew. They only delayed the final coming. And he knew. That final coming was soon.

_If I have been perverse, or hard, or cold_

_If I have longed for shelter in Thy fold_

_When Thou hast given me some part to hold_

_Good Lord, forgive…_

He sat in his living room now, very much in the same position he had been in when his situation had gone from bad to worse. Except the big girl wasn't here now, and shorty was probably off somewhere beating needle noggin over the head. He even had a smoke, just to calm his nerves. They had been on high end the past weeks, and he hadn't found the time to calm himself.

Slowly, Wolfwood crushed his used cigarette in the ashtray by his chair. It smoked in protest, and he pushed the reeking ashtray away. And for a moment, he sat and stared at nothing. His thoughts whirled into one big, tight knot.

And he knew what he had to do, and he stood up from the chair.

At his own pace, trying to delay it's coming, he ascended the stairs up to his room. It was clothed in a thick blanket of darkness, the air dim and smoky from too many cigarettes and not enough from outside.

And there it was, leaning against the wall, covering in buckles and hidden by a sheet.

His redemption.

_Forgive the sins I have confessed to Thee_

_Forgive the secret sins I do not see_

_That which I know not, Father, teach Thou me_

_Help me to live…_

Wolfwood's shoes clicked on the wooden floor, the only sound in the room besides his own heartbeat. And he approached it, stared at it. And a grim smile came upon his face, and he reached for it. It was lifted from the floor with ease, a buckle tight in his grip, and he swung it over his shoulder with equal effortlessness. This was his final burden before he walked out.

It was a cross, the last piece of him to be buried before he would truly be at peace.

_Amen…_

_--_

Meryl watched with a somewhat bored expression as Milly fiddled with a burner on the table. There was a vial held in a clamp, the contents—ones she preferred _not_ to know as opposed to being curious—roasting over a hot flame.

As she had stated before, it was better to leave the chemistry to the chemists.

With her luck, something would only end in a loud explosion and _lots_ of fire. But such was life, and Meryl was not talented in every aspect of life.

"Almost done, sempai." Milly murmured as she watched the vial carefully. The liquid inside seemed to be foaming into a pinkish sort of broth, one that made the petite woman cringe in disgust at the very sight of it. "Once it turns red and reverts back to a more…liquid form, it'll be ready."

Meryl wrinkled her nose at the vial. "How much does that make?" she asked abruptly.

The taller woman seemed to contemplate that question for a moment before she had to pick up the book she had been reading from and scan through the page. After a moment, she announced happily. "Just enough for one dose."

The petite woman must have lacked the intellect to see the sudden cheerfulness of the situation. "Milly, I hope you're prepared to make a whole lot more of this…stuff, then."

Her partner merely turned to her and smiled. It was one of those smiles that somehow managed to light the entire room up, and suddenly make Meryl feel that everything was just right even when it wasn't.

"Sempai, I'm willing to do anything to help, you know that right?" the kind woman announced lightly. "And Mr Vash is a friend, and you are a friend. And I believe we all need help every once in a while."

The petite woman returned Milly's smile. She never knew how she did it, how she managed to cheer people up and speak words of wisdom meant to roll from the lips of people much older than herself. But it was done, and Meryl had no idea what she would do without Milly. And she had never been a really emotional type, so she couldn't very well answer in a half-choked sob, thanking the woman for her help.

Not only would she look weak, she would sound as though her life was running short. Which it was, but she had no intention of going anywhere, really. Nowhere besides ahead in life.

So, instead, "Thanks Milly." She said shortly, offering another smile. "How much longer will this take, though? I don't want to leave broom head alone for too long. My possessions are very precious to me."

Milly turned back to the foaming vial, shaking her head slightly. "Not too much longer, sempai. And I wouldn't worry about Mr Vash. You said so yourself, and I believe it too. He's a good person, really." Her voice was sincere, like it always was.

Meryl sighed. "Really."

--

Less than half an hour after he had left Meryl's house, Vash found himself wandering the crooked streets and dank lanes of London with nothing short of little purpose. A heavy silence seemed to weigh the air down around him, and not even the gun by his side could reassure any fears he had. He could feel the beginnings of uneasy tugging at his insides.

At first, he figured he had lef the house just to spite Meryl and her bossy little ways, but then he realized how incredibly boring it was merely wandering the streets with nothing to do, no purpose, no destination whatsoever. Originally, he had thought he would use his wonder wandering abilities to help the greater good of the people. Such as scaring off any daywalkers happily harassing defenceless citizens and saving a life from the horrors of vampirism. But then he had realized he was in no shape whatsoever to be doing such things, as he would probably end up getting the snot beaten out of him, consequentially resulting in Meryl beating him repeatedly over the head for his stupidity.

Then, he had thought he could go to the priest's house, but soon after realized he had no idea where the man lived. That posed a slight problem, and since he had no wish to visit Milly, having the distinct feeling that Meryl was either there or off at Blueberry Lane staking his fellow people for pay—most likely at Milly's—he quickly discarded that idea.

The third and final thought had been dismissed as well. He had thought he could have gone to Blueberry Lane himself and taught the daywalkers a valuable lesson, but the tugging in the back of his mind telling him that Meryl could be there told him not too. Besides, and as he had found out before, he was too weak to be taking on any more than two bloodsuckers. And they tended to travel in tight knit packs.

So, he had eventually found himself quite lost, quite unoccupied and on the verge of a severe mental breakdown due to the heavy, still, _ominous _silence encircling him in its clutches. Every nerve end in his body was on edge.

And that was how the misguided priest Wolfwood had found the blonde, standing rather aimlessly in the middle of the street.

The half-blood hadn't noticed him yet, that much was certain. His back was to the priest, and only when Wolfwood stepped on a patch of grime and gravel, his shoes grinding on the stone, did he even give a sign of life. Within the second, Vash had turned with his gun drawn, and said gun was now aimed quite carefully at Wolfwood's head.

He seemed to relax slightly when he realized who it was, however, but didn't lower the weapon. Something about the priest had always set him on edge, anyhow, and his sudden appearance with a huge…cross slung over his back only added to his suspicions.

Wolfwood was the first to speak, as he had a few suspicions of his own. The two men stood in a standoff, eyes clashing with distrust.

"Now, Vash, I've got more than a few questions swimmin' around my head right now, several in fact, but I understand I don't have the time or patience to listen to all the answers right now." The priest announced, and his hand strayed to his pocket, from which he pulled out a cigarette. "One's sticking out more than the others, though, and I find it more important and useful to my purpose. So, you ready to answer without hesitance, needlenoggin, or do I have to blow you to tiny pieces before I get an answer?" he asked casually, lighting the cigarette between his lips with his free hand.

There was a tense, unbearable silence for a moment, but it ended when Vash lowered his shining gun to his side.

Wolfwood nodded to him, inhaling from the cigarette before blowing a cloud of smoke from his lips. "Now, then, Vash. I'm glad to see you're cooperating, and I hope you don't mind if I ask where our little Miss Meryl is. If I didn't know any better, I could've sworn she was with you, but since I don't see her anywhere one has to wonder, right?"

Silently, Vash replaced the gun in its holster, seeming to feel any danger to him was now over. Slowly, he replied. "Last time I saw her she was slamming the front door in my face. About a half hour ago, and if you must know, I'm looking for her right now."

Wolfwood arched and eyebrow in silent scepticism. "Really, somehow I'm doubting you want to be anywhere near her right now." Vash didn't answer, so he continued. "I only know one place Meryl could be right now, and if she's as smart as I think she is, she'll be there."

"Milly's?"

"Yeah." Nodding, Wolfwood started toward the half-blood, who narrowed his eyes in return.

"What are you doing with that huge cross?" Vash asked, suddenly curious and very suspicious. He still wasn't quite sure whether or not he should be trusting the priest. After all, wasn't the Church an enemy of vampires like him?

Wolfwood didn't seem very effected by the question. "It's merely a tool of punishment…from the merciful Lord above."

Snorting, the blonde retorted, "What do you do with it, crucify people?" he asked haughtily as the priest approached him.

Stopping beside the blonde, Wolfwood plucked the cigarette from his lips with his free hand and blew a steady stream of smoke in his direction. "No, I kill_ vampires_ with it."

Again, another snort from the blonde as Wolfwood continued past him. "You do know that crosses hardly ever work to repel vampires, right? You being such an expert and all!" he declared loudly in the small lane.

Over his shoulder, Wolfwood called back. "I don't repel them, needlenoggin, I _kill_ them!"

A slightly disturbed look came over Vash's face, and he gave the man's back an incredulous look before running after him. "I thought you were a priest!" he shouted, falling in step beside the darkly clad man.

Wolfwood allowed a flicker of a smile to cross over his face. "Yeah, I'm just a special kind of priest."

--

"Here you are, sempai!" Milly declared happily, handing the vial of red serum, a cork screwed tightly to its top, over to her partner. They both stood in the tall woman's kitchen, and a steaming kettle was whistling merrily on the stove behind them.

Meryl took the vial with relief, and tucked the long vial into her belt for safekeeping. "You have no idea how much I appreciate this, Milly." She said with a smile.

Her partner merely shook her head. "No need for thanks, sempai. I believe in anything that will help you and Vash get along together." She announced jovially, blue eyes bright in the warm atmosphere of the kitchen.

Meryl didn't care to analyze the double meaning of that statement, and she stood for a moment, something tugging gently at the back of her mind. She knew she had been planning to ask Milly for something more, but for the world she couldn't remember…

"Will you stay for tea, sempai?" Milly's voice interrupted her thoughts, and Meryl's head snapped up from the floor where he gaze had rested.

Then she remembered she had wanted to read over that article Vash had mentioned, the one concerning certain vampires… "Ah…no Milly. I don't think that would be such a good idea. I feel I've stayed too long already." Her partner looked somewhat hurt, and the petite woman instantly regretted it. Then again, she mused gently, she _did_ need the newspaper. "Oh…alright Milly. But we'd better make it quick. I don't want to put you in danger or anything of the sort…"

Milly only laughed. "Sempai, I work as a vampire hunter for a living."

"Point taken." Meryl replied with a sigh, and then: "You don't happen to have today's newspaper around, do you?"

The taller woman gave her an odd look, but nodded. "Of course, sempai. Is there anything interesting in it today that I should know about…?"

Meryl knew very well the meaning of her words, but denied them anyway. If her partner knew she wanted to go out hunting for a few pounds, she'd insist on coming. And then something bad would happen, she knew. Meryl didn't want that to happen, and she figured she would be just fine. _One hundred silver bullets, remember…_ her mind teased her languidly.

"I just want to catch up on the news, that's all, Milly. I realize I've been separate from the world for a few days now…" Meryl lied between her teeth, but didn't feel bad. Why should she feel bad about it?

Her partner instantly brightened. "Well, in that case, of course, it's just in the living room on the sofa. I'll get the tea ready and you can read it before you go, okay?"

Meryl smiled. "Of course, Milly."

--

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	24. Calm in the Beginning III

No Want No Hunger No Shame 

**--**

**Chapter 23**

**--**

Meryl sipped the last of her tea, her eyes skimming the paper before her.

_176 Blueberry Lane, Mrs Dougherty's dresses shop…interesting_

Making sure Milly, who sat silently across from her, did not see the page she had been reading, Meryl folded the paper and laid it on the table before her. Her tea was gone, she had read what she had wanted to read and she had the serum for Vash. As far as she was concerned, her job here was done.

"Well, Milly…thank you very much for the tea, but as I said before…"

"You don't want to attract trouble, sempai," the taller woman finished her sentence. "I know, so I suppose you should get going, right?"

The petite woman smiled at her friend. "I wish I could have stayed a bit longer to visit, I really do…" she said truthfully. Now that she was here, she found she really didn't want to leave so soon.

Standing up, Milly gathered the two empty teacups and took them to the kitchen sink. "You have the serum in a safe place?" she questioned her friend.

Nodding, Meryl pushed back her chair and stood. Tapping her belt, she smiled. "Right here, Milly, don't worry about it."

Her partner nodded, her eyes somewhat distant as if she was searching for something to say. Finally, she cocked her head at Meryl. "You don't need any groceries do you, sempai. It just occurred to me that you haven't been shopping for at least a week, but then again you haven't been very hungry, have you?"

Something in Meryl's mind was pulling at her to leave, while another, just as strong was forcing her to give in and say yes. But that would most likely end in Milly following her until they reached the bakery and such, and then she couldn't very well head off to Blueberry Lane and collect the money for the vampire's fangs, now could she? Hesitating, Meryl finally shook her head.

"No, you're right Milly. I haven't been very hungry. I'll stop in at the new coffee shop on my way back. Just a quick visit, and if you want to, you can pick up a few things for me and come over tomorrow for a visit," she offered, and smiled brightly up at her friend as a cover.

_She must not know…she'd never let me out of her house if she knew…but I need the money…_ Meryl's mind was racing. She needed the money, that was for sure. Her earnings was running low since she had encountered Vash, and nothing good would come from it. But she also wanted answers, and who better to answer them than a bunch of vampires. Except for Vash, of course. She would leave him until later.

And she desperately needed to vent some of her pent up anger before she ended exploding in some innocent pedestrian's face, or worse…

"You know, sempai, I think I like that idea. You wouldn't mind if brought Mr Priest along, too, would you? He needs to get out of his house more, I say." Milly accepted her partner's offer with a smile, glad for the sudden change of disposition in her friend. She had always liked it when Meryl acted happy instead of spending her time moping around in distress. "He's been researching on Knives non-stop since we decided on…well since we decided on the plan…I know it doesn't look like its going anywhere fast, sempai, but—"

Meryl interrupted her partner. "Milly, I understand. I'll even ask Vash about everything when I get back. And feel free to bring Nick, I feel he's been excluding himself for a while now…"

Clasping her hands together with joy, the taller woman nodded and beamed. "Good, sempai. We'll all come over tomorrow and talk things through again, alright? And then everything will be okay again!"

Those last words echoed in Meryl's head as she closed Milly's front door and stepped out onto the street, and she couldn't see the truth behind them. And she knew that it would never be the same again.

_It will never be okay._

_--_

Stomping his cigarette out on the cobblestone street, Wolfwood listened as Vash knocked upon Milly's door. The sound echoed hollowly in the tight street.

"You think she's home?" the blonde asked after a moment of no reply.

A moment later, the sound of a door being unlocked reached the blonde's ears, answering his question. The priest raised an eyebrow at him, and a moment later Milly poked her head out of the door, looking confused.

"Mr Vash…Mr. Priest…" her eyes lingered on Wolfwood's large cross a moment. "What are you two doing out here?"

Wolfwood frowned, immediately knowing something wasn't quite right about it all. "Just takin a walk, honey."

Vash cut in before he could say anymore. "And we were also wondering if we could speak to Meryl, if she wants to talk that is," he spoke up, a hopeful look on his face.

Milly regarded the two for a moment, an odd look in her eyes. They flickered from the half-blood to the priest, and then back to the half-blood again. A muscle in her cheek twitched slightly, and a moment later, she slammed the door in the two men's faces. The very frame of the house seemed to shake, and the loud noise fell hollowly on the surrounding buildings.

Vash blinked, surprised. "Wow…you think Meryl doesn't want to talk to anyone?" he asked no one in particular.

Wolfwood didn't speak; just cast a glance at the confused half-blood. He had known something was wrong. The look in Milly's eyes for a moment there, the general, true confusion on her face when she had opened her door to see the two of them together, standing on her doorstep. And his suspicions were confirmed a moment later when the door swung back open and a fully armed Milly, complete with overcoat and stun gun, stepped out onto her doorstep.

Meryl wasn't there, he had known all along.

Milly regarded the two men with a solemn look. "You're quite sure you didn't see her on your way here?"

Vash still seemed confused. "Why would see Meryl on her way here…unless…" he trailed off as the priest shook his head.

"Have any idea where she's run off to?"

Milly shook her head sullenly, leaning her stun gun on the ground for a moment. "She said she was going to stop in at the coffee shop before heading home, just for a small bite to eat, but she didn't mention anything else."

Vash watched the two, a slight tugging at him mind alerting him to something he hadn't wanted to feel for a long while yet. Slowly, as Milly and Nick continued to converse, he turned around, his ears closed off to their words. He was hearing something else now, a whispering in his head, nagging at him, taunting him.

_…going to come to me…Vash…come…_

He turned again, eyes holding a distant look. His two companions were now a mere murmur, for in his head there were a hundred voices beckoning to him, calling his name in a windy flurry of blurred words.

_Vash…will you come now…come find me…_

Where was it coming from? He didn't understand. He couldn't pinpoint the location, it was too blurry. The voice, though, the voice was very recognizable. He was laughing at him, Vash knew. His brother loved to taunt him while he was weak like this, just to show him how much power still remained in his body while Vash nearly had none and was on the verge of collapse.

_…come and get her…Vash? Aren't you going to find her?_

He wasn't aware that Wolfwood and Milly had stopped speaking and were now watching him curiously as he whirled around, turning his head this way and that as if he was trying to here something.

_…aren't a very good friend, Vash…why don't you come see…_

And then, all at once, everything stopped, and the distinct presence of one of his own, many of his own, drowned out Knives's voice in his head. Vash knew wherever the vampires were gathering, that was where Meryl would be.

Ignoring Milly and Wolfwood, he stumbled over his own feet in a hurry to find them. If he let his senses guide them, they would find her…

--

"Thank you for the information, Mrs Dougherty!" Meryl told the elderly woman as she stepped out of the store, a genuine smile on her face.

The old woman planted her hand on her hips. "Right, right. I just don't want you hounding any customers that come by, you hear me?? Business is bad enough around this time of year without you hunter types running around shooting and staking everyone you see!" and with that, the front door was slammed on Meryl's nose, and the short woman had to stumble back to avoid being hit.

Shaking herself off and gathering her bearings, Meryl frowned at the door. To her right, in the shop window, the curtain was drawn. Meryl just barely caught a glimpse of the elderly grouch of a woman scowling at her before she disappeared behind the shades.

"Is it just me, or a people more…violent around this time of year?" the petite woman muttered to herself, straightening up and turning around.

Only to walk smack dab into somebody.

"I assure you it isn't yourself, human," said a distinctly familiar masculine voice as Meryl stumbled back. "It's a natural human instinct you spiders have, actually, supposedly meant to protect you from harm…I completely disagree, though."

Frowning, the petite woman stared up at the man before her. The face that stared back was not a welcome on at all, and her hands immediately strayed under her cloak to the derringers hidden beneath.

"Legato," she hissed vehemently. "That is you're name, is it not?"

The daywalker gave her a cold, ruthless hint of a smile. "Have you come back for more, little human? Shall I finish you off now, I wonder, or should I take my time and kill you slowly?" he pondered, golden eyes fixed on the woman.

Meryl's hand closed around the cold metal of a gun, and she slowly slipped it from its hold. "To the point, aren't you?" she managed to smirk at him. "But I know you wouldn't…I have a feeling Knives wants me alive, for whatever purpose that is."

Legato's eyes shadowed over, and he glared at Meryl. "You shall address him as master, human."

Her other hand wrapped around another derringer, and the petite woman suddenly felt a lot more sure of herself. "And you shall address me as Miss Stryfe, bloodsucker," she stated just as evenly, her stormy grey eyes locking with his golden, dead ones.

Quite possibly, all her strength and effort went into her next move. Every ounce of knowledge she had ever learned, everything her father had ever taught her and everything she had picked up on the way, anything she had heard, read or seen. It all came out in her next movements, and she was proud of herself.

With a speed possessed only by people such as herself, Meryl whipped out the two derringers and without hesitation fires two shots—one from each gun. Much to her dismay, but not very surprising, the golden eyed vampire evaded both bullets. He had not survived so long without learning a thing or two, this she knew.

But that didn't stop her, and as he moved, so did she. And she fired off her last two shots, dropped the guns not a half a second after and pulled another two from under her cloak.

She was lucky this time, three bullets exploded through the other side of his cloak, and she fired off another two shots as the vampire took the time to examine his clothing. His kind were so vain.

Abandoning the useless weapons, Meryl ripped out a finely pointed stake from her belt and with her free hand, her left hand, drew anther silver loaded gun.

"You're days are numbered, bloodsucker!!" she shouted, and shot at him twice more before readying her stake and charging at him.

The two bullets whizzed ineffectively by Legato's cheek as he turned, golden eyes wide, to face the incoming vampire hunter. Meryl was upon him before he could blink, her stake burying itself deep into his dead flesh. Her jaw clenched tightly, she ground the wooden spear deeper into him, letting all her anger and resentment flow in with it.

But she heard a deep rumble inside Legato's throat, and her eyes strayed up to his face.

Her heart nearly froze over when she noticed he was smiling, and moments later the vampire was laughing. A deep, throaty laugh echoed off the walls of the street, bouncing back a million times over, and Meryl felt repulsed by it all. He was disgusting, completely repulsive.

The reason for his apparent mirth was revealed to her a moment later, and she watched with something akin to horror as he took hold of the stake, straightening up to his full height, and ripped the piece of wood from himself. It was coated with blood, but none of it dripped.

Legato tossed the stake aside. "You missed my heart by about an inch, human…I could _feel _it," he smirked at her as if he was pleased at the very thought of it.

And then, as if Meryl thought it couldn't possibly get any worse, it began to rain. Bad things always happened when it rained, they always had. The downpour was almost immediate. A few flecks of water dropped the small portions of her exposed skin before a thunderclap echoed loudly overhead and the heavens broke in two, releasing a torrent of water onto the world below.

**--**

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder **


	25. Stormy in the End I

No Want No Hunger No Shame 

**--**

**Chapter 24**

**--**

Meryl stared up at the sky. She could see every single rain droplet on its way down to the ground, every single little one as it fell from the clouds to the ground. Her cloak was soaked, her hair plastered limply to her face. Small rivulets were running down her cheeks, tickling her skin as they rolled off her chin and nose. This, she decided, was the heaviest rain of spring. After this one storm, everything would slowly calm down and London spring would fade to London summer. And London summer would be rainy and wet, sometimes cold. But it would never be like this, it would never rain this much.

Slowly, Meryl lowered her eyes from the sky and faced Legato. She was mildly surprised he hadn't attacked her yet. He looked as though he was expecting something, so it wasn't really a big surprise when she noticed the many shadows closing in around them on the street. He had merely been waiting.

The petite woman turned to look at the many daywalkers that had gathered. They were everywhere, on every side filling every nook and cranny available to them. She hated it when this happened, when they gathered like some sort of obsessive cult worshiping some pagan god.

She hated it, the way they stared. She hated the way they looked, the way they smelled of death and reeked of a misled retribution.

They had no other purpose other than to kill and multiply.

She hated them because they were a disease on earth. A complete waste of space.

She hated them because they couldn't live without humans—that they would die without humans, just like a die-hard virus hanging on to the very fibres of its existence.

She hated it all, that no matter how she tried she would never make a difference. It was useless, a complete wasted cause. And she hated everything about it now.

But maybe that was why she did it.

"What do you want?" she asked finally, turning to face Legato again, only to find him standing more or less a foot away from her.

Quickly, she jumped back and glared at him.

A slight smile touched the vampire's lips. "My Master wants to meet you."

Meryl frowned. "Why?" she asked simply. And it was the truth. _Why??_

"He's fascinated by you're dedication towards what you do. He has some questions, and you have answers."

Meryl stepped back another few feet from the golden-eyed daywalker. "Right…well you tell your master I have no intention of meeting him, and if I ever happen to see him strolling about my streets he'll be dead before he can blink. Literally," she told him with a steely vengeance.

Again, Legato smiled that little smile that couldn't even be _called_ a smile. "We all think you are very amusing, human, with you're little toy weapons and words that are meant to hurt us."

Again, the petite woman frowned. "How would you like a stake in the heart, bloodsucker? Would it be funny then, hmm?" she asked angrily, feeling her temper rising as the temperature around her dropped.

"Indeed it would, human, because you know it's impossible. You're hardly capable of something so…difficult." Legato replied, and then turned his head slightly as though he was listening for something.

Curling her free hand into a fist, Meryl pulled a stake quickly from her belt and in one quick movement hurtled it at Legato. Then, she pulled out two more of her small silver loaded derringers and pulled off four rapid shots, just in case her stake missed.

But to her dismay, none seemed to hit the vampire. In fact, as he stood listening to a sound that wasn't there, her stake and four bullets had simply frozen in mid air and now hung there, useless.

_Right…psychic vampire…_ she thought to herself with dismay.

Sighing, she walked up to the stake, and staring at it curiously, watched as the rain fell and dribbled off the wood. Then, reaching up, she closed her fingers around the sleek wood and tried to pull it from the air, which not only sounded ridiculous, but must have looked equally as queer, she imagined.

But it didn't budge.

Suddenly, Legato seemed to snap out of his trance and turned to look at her. Abruptly, the stake came loose, and Meryl flew backwards, landing on the wet cobblestones with her backside on the receiving end. Four silver bullets clattered harmlessly to the ground around her, and as she hurriedly stood back up, she snatched one of the small things off the ground.

"He is here." Legato announced abruptly, and Meryl pulled herself the rest of the way off the street.

Examining the silver bullet for a moment, she frowned at it and dropped it again. Then, her eyes went to the surrounding crowds of vampires, every on off them staring at her like she was some sort of juicy morsel of tenderloin steak. It didn't take a genius to figure out who was 'here' but the thing was that Meryl didn't see this high and mighty Master Knives anywhere.

But apparently, her body did, and as the rain pounded almost painfully on her head, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She was quite sure it wasn't the cold, either. Then, directly in front of her, the mass of tightly bunched bloodsuckers parted abruptly, and Meryl got her second glimpse of Knives Saverem since that fated day on the street where his carriage had bobbled along the streets.

And she knew it was Knives even before she actually saw his tall, cloaked form. Stiffly, she watched as he made his way through the parted way and into the circle. The rain almost seemed to avoid hitting pelting him, but she was sure that wasn't true. Knives may be powerful, but he wasn't 'magical.'

Meryl stared boldly at him as he approached, and glared as he stopped a good ways away from her.

"What's the matter, old chap? Don't want to get too close?" she couldn't help but taunt, feeling a bit too bold even for her own likings. She had never been the one to do rash things, but she was doing just that now.

He didn't respond. Instead, he reached up with black-gloved hands to pull back his hood. And the face that was presented to her was so astonishing Meryl felt as if she had been punched in the gut.

He was identical. They were identical. There was no doubt in Meryl's mind that Vash _wasn't_ Knives's brother, now, and it made her slightly angry to know he had kept something so big from her.

"So, nice to finally meet you, Knives," she greeted him almost pleasantly, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the pounding rain.

He didn't even cast a glance her way, merely nodded to Legato, who in his turn faced her with a deadpan face.

"Lord Knives wants to know what you're name is," he transferred his master's message to her.

Meryl let loose a harsh burst of laughter. "You mean you pig-assed idiots have been running all around London trying to corner me and you don't even know my bloody name!?" she exclaimed with a humourless smile. Then, she turned to Knives. "Yeah, well guess what, you bloodsucking virus, I'm not going to tell you unless you can find the guts to bloody well ask me yourself instead of using you're pathetic little _henchmen_ to do it for you!!"

--

The rain was coming down hard now, pelting the three as they raced through the streets of London. Vash was leading them, his boots splashing through puddles as he let his senses guide him.

"Mr Vash! Where are you going!" Milly yelled through the downpour, struggling to catch her breath. Beside her, Wolfwood seemed in much worse condition, and was huffing and puffing as if they had been running a full hour instead of several minutes.

Casting a quick look back at her, Vash replied shortly. "I'm finding Meryl!" he announced loudly.

Milly glanced at Wolfwood with a worried expression. Why did she have a horrible feeling that Meryl was in _very _big trouble.

--

Meryl watched as Legato cast a sharp glance as his master before turning to her. "Lord Knives says I may take it by force if you do not give it freely. And it will hurt, human," he said, a ghost of a smile flittering across his face.

The small woman set her jaw tightly. "Is that so?" she mused idly, hardly loud enough to be heard over the rain. Then, quite suddenly, she began to march towards Knives, a determined look on her face. No one made a move to stop her, which both unnerved and satisfied her. Upon reaching the vampire, she reached out to prod him hard in the chest. "_You _want to know—" she was cut off abruptly as one gloved hand shot up and snatched her wrist.

"Do _not_ touch me, spider," Knives spoke in an even, cool voice, nothing like Vash's.

Meryl had expected that, and she could hear Legato behind her, reaching out to remove her from his master's presence. Her free hand clutched the stake she had picked up from the ground earlier, and before the daywalker could even lay a finger upon her, the stake was buried deep in his hand, and Meryl was still facing Knives.

Behind her, Legato's face remained impassive, even when he raised his impaled hand to his face to inspect the damage done.

Meryl watched as an amused smile slipped over Knives's face, and he released her hand abruptly. She tilted her head to one side in a pleasant smile and addressed Knives.

"Tell you're friend not to lay a hand on me, lest he wishes for another stake in him."

Knives raised a delicate eyebrow at her, and then all at once the humour was gone from his face. "You humans are so simple. You cannot even answer a simple question without vulgarities. It disgusts me," he spat, and nodded to Legato over her shoulder.

Behind her, the golden-eyed vampire raised his impaled hand to the hunter's back, and all at once Meryl felt herself immobile, only able to breath and blink. Face expressionless, she watched as Knives circled around her like a predator. She was getting used to strange occurrences.

"There is no wonder your race is so insignificant, why it's only purpose is to feed my own." Knives continued. "You said that I was a virus when you humans are the ones destroying the world around you, killing off everything that gets in your way even if it had posed no threat to you. A human's mind is a fickle thing, one indecisive and ever changing, one that sparks with betrayal and greed, lust and power. You say you want to rid the world of evil when you are that very evil that strikes everything else down!"

Meryl struggled against Legato's powers as they held her in place, but she only ended exhausting herself without even lifting a finger.

Knives turned to the golden-eyed vampire. "I want her mind accessible to me," he demanded finally.

The petite woman watched as Knives returned to his place before her, rain pounding down upon him ruthlessly. Slowly, he reached out a hand and placed it on Meryl's forehead. A slow, languid smile spread across his pale face and she felt a sharp prick in the back of her mind. The feeling grew somewhat, and the pounding of the rain seemed to dissolve as the pain grew in her head. She could feel the 'K' engraved into her skin burn as if the Devil himself was breathing down her neck.

Finally, Knives's smile grew to a satisfied one. "Meryl Mary Stryfe," he announced after a moment, and the pain in her head grew to the point where she had to close her eyes to ward it off. "Born in Manchester to one Meredith and David Stryfe, moved to London when you were eighteen because it provided a better…hunting ground. Ah…so you got into the sport of vampire hunting when you were a child—seven, no doubt by your father, who later died by a means of a vampire attack when you were sixteen. Truly sad." His smile grew as he delved deeper into the depths of her mind. "Your mother, what happened to her? Oh, could it be that vampires also killed her? When you were six, in your home, after dinner while your father was in Bristol for business reasons, one Meredith Angelina Stryfe was brutally killed by…three vampires right before your eyes. How very tragic." Knives removed his hand and stepped back.

Meryl opened her eyes to watch him, the pain in her head receding somewhat. Vash's twin took a deep breath and let it out in a steady stream. Then, without warning, he wound back his hand and dealt her a powerful slap across the face. Her face whipped to one side with the sheer force of it while her body remained immobile.

"See, that wasn't so hard, human!" Knives said loudly as a ripple of laughter ran through the surrounding vampires. "It's just you who wanted to make it so damned complicated!"

Meryl's cheek stung with the slap, but she couldn't find the tears to cry for her pain. Slowly, Knives took her face and turned it towards him again. Then, smiling cruelly, he placed his gloved hand on her forehead once more, and a piercing pain bolted through her head like electricity.

"When did you meet my brother, I wonder?" he asked absently. "Not more than three weeks ago on the street on the way to Nicholas D Wolfwood's—now doesn't that sound familiar. Tell me, Meryl, how much do you really know about your dear priest? Yes, he seems to gather all your information, doesn't he? But did you know that I was once very good friends with Nicholas…oh yes…he was a very smart man. _Until_ he developed a conscience."

Meryl was starting to feel dizzy with all the pain, and she felt her eyes drooping slightly, but still Knives continued.

"Now…who's this Milly Thompson? A good friend who helps you to hunt vampires…how nice. And she carries a big gun under her coat. I'll have to remember that for later. And yourself, aren't you prepared…fifty silver loaded derringers under your cape along with four stakes—two remaining…and what's this…a serum?"

Abruptly, Meryl felt his hand being taken away from her forehead, and her eyes snapped open just in time to see Knives pluck the serum from her belt and inspect it with a curious eye. Then, shrugging casually, he tossed it over his shoulder and it shattered on impact with the ground.

"I much prefer the real thing to a cheap serum, spider," he said dangerously.

Quite abruptly, Meryl felt herself released from Legato's hold, and she stumbled back slightly as Knives took a step towards her. Her cheek stung with more vehemence now, but the rain running down her face cooled it's burning.

Knives took another step towards her. "Do you know why I want to kill you, spider?" he asked her lowly, just loud enough so she could hear.

Slowly, Meryl shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

"Actually, I don't want to kill you…I want to turn you." Knives stated sadistically. "Wouldn't that be surprising? I want to turn you because I _despise_ you, and having you live the life of a vampire after all the years you have spent trying to get rid of them would be quite ironic, don't you think? Just to be rid of your threat would be a great relief. In fact, I think I'll make you the first of many. Then I'll go after the others…like Milly."

As soon as her best friend's name left his mouth, Meryl lunged at him with a snarl on her face and one of her remaining two stakes in her hand. "_Don't you dare say her name!_" she yelled wrathfully throwing her arm towards his heart with all her strength.

Knives didn't move as she reached him, and just as she closed one hand around the front of his cloak for grip as the other sped to his heart, his own hand, his grip tight, stopped it.

Furiously, Meryl took a better grip on his cloak and began forcing the stake towards his heart. "Stupid _bastard_!" she ground out, glaring up at him as he smiled coldly down at her.

"Secondly, I would much like to see the look on my fool brother's face when he sees you lying on the ground with your life seeping out of you in tune with the beat of your dying heart. And when it stops, I will take a certain pleasure from knowing I have taken someone so close to him and turning them over to myself to do my every bidding! He'll be completely devastated, and what's left of his soul will slowly deteriorate until he realizes his mistakes and comes back to me." Knives chuckled coldly, holding the stake in place as the small woman's arm began to shake with the strain.

"You leave Vash alone!" Meryl spat angrily, a snarl on her lips. "Did you ever care to think there was a reason he decided to leave you and that there's a reason he's helping me??"

Knives wouldn't listen, however, and continued with an insane glint in his ice blue eyes. "How do you think he'll react when he knows that I'm the one who bit you, spider? What will he do?"

She forced the stake to move forward again, but Knives held it fast with little effort. "I think he'll come and kill you, that's what I think!" she gave him a grin of her own, one strangely vengeful. The clouds overhead clashed with a loud crack of thunder, making the ground beneath their feet shake.

Knives's eyes glinted as a bolt of lightning lit up the sky above him. "But wait, I haven't quite finished yet," his eyes narrowed now, and the smile left his face. "You are a terribly meddlesome spider, one that has to be exterminated before you come looking for things that don't belong to you and never will."

Her stormy grey eyes glared up at him. "You mean the serum," she managed to grind out, forcing the stake no more than a centimetre further to his heart.

"Oh yes, I mean the serum, if that's what you call it." Knives responded, and tired of the game, batted the stake roughly away from his heart with impeccable ease. It was thrown from Meryl's stiffened grip and clattered uselessly to the ground behind her.

Meryl's eyes widened as Knives took a firm grip on her collar, preventing her from escape.

"Do you _really_ think Vash will kill me if I bite you?" he asked again, blue eyes cold and hard.

Meryl sneered at him, fully aware of what was to come. The 'K' burning hotly on the back of her neck told her so. "Oh yes, I think he will hunt you down and won't stop until you're lying in a heap with a stake through your heart. And I wish I could see it!"

The vampire smiled thinly, opening his mouth to run his tongue along the tips of his teeth. Upon touch, his fangs grew, and he smirked at her. "Well then, I'm curious to find out the truth."

Truthfully, Meryl didn't know exactly what to expect. More often than not, she found herself in situations like this one, but every time she had somehow managed to escape with her life and dignity, not to mention her blood. Someone was always there to either be a good friend or knight in shining armour. She could tell that wouldn't happen this time, as by the time she felt his fangs pierce the first layer of skin on her neck, it was too late for heroics and all she could do was wait. Wait for her death.

She never knew death could hurt so much.

Her first instinct was to struggle and scream, but as Knives leaned over her, tightening his grip, she found it did nothing to help her, and no sound was uttered from her open mouth. Then, her second instinct was to try and hurt Knives as much as possible as he bit her, but she found her hands weren't cooperating with her coordination. Such the reason why she couldn't seem to grasp her last stake properly and it ended up on the ground with the rest of them as Knives pulled her roughly towards him and sunk his fangs deeper into her neck.

Then, Meryl felt the true pain. She could feel her blood seeping into her cloak and running down the side of her neck. Then all she could do was recite her father's words to herself. She would have prayed, but she knew no prayers. Her line of work didn't devote itself strongly in the belief of religion, only that evil did exist and silver crosses did nothing to ward it away.

_It takes precisely__ twenty minutes of nonstop drinking to drain the whole body of its blood, give or take a few. Such is the reason vampires leave their victims alive to bleed themselves dead…_ she recalled her father saying once. Moreover, since she was sure it had only been about a half minute she had not immediate worries about drying up.

But the pain! It was horrible, like someone was methodically sinking two thick pins into the side of her neck, just between her collarbone and jaw and penetrating her skin deeper every time. Meryl closed her eyes and tried to block everything out, but suddenly found that everything was gone.

The pain was gone.

There was no more cold rain.

Knives's fangs were no longer sinking deeper into her flesh

Instead, she found herself lying rather haphazardly on the ground, and despite the presence and sound of the rain, it did not hit her. And she could hear someone speaking to her, and she could hear screaming and yelling. She could feel the chaos around her, but she didn't care. Someone was calling her name…

Slowly, Meryl opened her eyes, and noticed that someone tall was crouching over her, shielding her from the storm. Blinking slightly, she noticed the blonde hair, and twin pools of aqua green staring down at her and filling with tears.

She could feel fingers run along her cheek, and she blinked again to clear her vision, thinking that this person was indeed very familiar. Very familiar…

And she could hear him calling her name. She liked to think her name sounded very nice coming from his lips, and she recalled she hadn't heard him say it much. But she wanted to, that she knew.

_I feel very sick and…tired_ she thought to herself, but tried to clear her head enough to see the man's face clearly.

She blinked again, and felt several warm drops of rain drop on her cheek. Almost irritably, she reached up a hand to wipe them away, but it was caught in another, and her eyes turned up to the man above her.

He was crying, she noticed. She decided she didn't like him crying, so she pulled her hand from his and reached up to him, trying to smile. It hurt, but she did it, and she managed to brush a stray tear from his cheek. But to her dismay, she left a trail of red where her hand brushed his face.

Her eyes drifted shut.

"I'm sorry, Vash," the sound of her own voice lulled her into darkness.

**--**

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	26. Stormy in the End II

No Want No Hunger No Shame 

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**Chapter 25**

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Wolfwood had begun to think that Vash was leading Milly and himself on a wild goose chase through London. The cross on his back was becoming heavy and his breath was growing heavy as the burden on his back weighted him down. He had begun to think Vash was either deceiving them or was losing his mind, one of the two, at least.

He could feel the impenetrable silence as the coming neared him, though, as everything that had been clam and cool was being brought to an end. And he wasn't there to see it. Yet.

It turned out Vash's instincts were better than his own, which could be expected. He had led them down a long, winding street named Blueberry Lane. It wasn't quit the name he was looking for in a fitting end. In fifty years from now, did he really want people to know it had started on a street named after a perfectly harmless fruit?

Nonetheless, it was not his choice to make, and quite abruptly, Vash stopped in front of him. This nearly caused the priest to slide into the blonde, his shoes slipping dangerously on the wet and slick cobblestones. He was about to curse at the vampire before he noticed the reason he had stopped. Beside him, Milly gasped.

Wolfwood was stunned.

He didn't think he had actually seen so many vampires crowded into one space. He had always thought they preferred to travel in groups of six or seven, like a small family. But this…the amount of bloodsucking creatures before him could amount to a small village, a whole town! And there was only one reason so many would be brought together in one place at the same time. They wouldn't have done so if someone hadn't called them.

_Knives,_ he thought, stepping up beside Vash.

It seemed, as soon as that thought left his mind, the closest daywalker to him, the one farthest from the action, turned. Almost as though he had been drawn by the name.

Wolfwood watched then, as one distraction caused another vampire to turn, a woman. Then another, a man. Then another, and another. And quite soon, a good third of the whole London vampire population was solely focused on the three people before them. At least a hundred or so against three, to them the numbers were completely fair.

"What do you say?" Wolfwood murmured to Vash, the first words exchanged in a full while.

Vash didn't even blink. His eyes seemed trained on something that wasn't there, and a frown was steadily growing on his face. "I say we find Meryl," he answered

stiffly, stretching his fingers towards his single gun.

Nodding, Wolfwood retrieved the large cross from his back and set it on the ground to his side, fully erect and at its full height. He cast a quick glance at Milly, who stood at his left. She had her large stun gun held in both hands, a determined look on her face. Damn, he wished he could have a cigarette…

"Are you ready?" he asked Milly.

She didn't even look his way. Her light blue eyes were narrowed in front of her, glaring at the vampires facing them. "Are you sure Sempai's in the middle of all that?"

Wolfwood's eyes returned to the mass of dark forms no more than fifty metres from them. "Not a doubt in my mind, honey," he answered quickly, without

hesitation. Hesitation would give him doubt, he knew.

"On the count of three?" Vash questioned beside him.

Milly and Wolfwood nodded simultaneously, eyes focused forward.

"One…" Wolfwood started, his hand straying to the first buckle on the cross.

"Two…" Milly supplied softly, her knuckles turning white on the grip of her gun.

"_Three_…" Vash ended, and his hand went straight for his weapon.

Within seconds, everything around them was thrown into complete chaos.

Wolfwood's hands skilfully unclasped the rest of the buckles wrapped around the cross, and heaving the large object into the air, he tore the wet cloth covering from it. As the cloth flew away, past and over Vash's head, he crouched down low and lifted a shining, metal cross onto his shoulder.

He liked to refer to it as the Cross Punisher, and any that interfered with the Lord's will would come face to face with it in time.

As Milly held her stun gun straight ahead, firing the first shot through the rain and hitting the first vampire to move, Vash levelled his own gun to the oncoming rush of half-blooded daywalkers. Wolfwood narrowed his eyes, flipping his shaggy hair from his face before aiming his weapon at the bloodsuckers. The torrent of pounding rain crashed like a tidal wave onto the metal's surface, and without a moment's hesitation, the priest's cold and stiff fingers settled on the grip of the weapon and he pulled the trigger.

Instantaneously, a barrage of silver-coated bullets from the machine gun crashed into the front line of vampires, and he was satisfied to see more than a few disintegrate to dust before his eyes. Pushing against the force of the backlash, Wolfwood steadied his fingers on the trigger and aimed for the vampires as they flung themselves towards the three.

He was now quite sure that the whole population of bloodsuckers was quite aware that he was firing quite happily away at them with his cross punisher. Now, he knew, came the hard part, and the as the Punisher ran out of bullets, he flipped it off his back.

The large cross hit the ground beside him, and Wolfwood surveyed the carnage before him one last time before triggering the mechanism in the centre of the cross. The arms of the large weapon flipped open, revealing several revolvers tucked neatly within, side-by-side. Just waiting to be used.

The misguided priest pulled two from the cross and swiftly faced the vampires. Off to his left was Vash, picking off random targets with his silver gun, which was a complete surprise. He had gotten the impression Vash was not the one to take killing lightly, especially not the murdering of his kin. But then he noticed that the bullets were not killing the vampires, merely stalling them, disabling them.

To his right, Milly held her stun gun. It wasn't lethal, but it hurt, and could take down as many as four adversities in one shot if aimed right.

Even with their skills combined, the vampires were still advancing, shoving off the steaming, disintegrating corpses of their fellows as they fought to get at the three partners, their enemies. And Wolfwood was the only one who was shooting to kill.

Grimly, he aimed both his guns and began firing at will, shooting off bullets that cut through the rain and imbedded themselves in any vampire unfortunate enough to come in their path. There were six bullets in each gun, twelve guns. That made seventy-two pieces of silver for more than a hundred opponents. Angrily, he cursed his bad luck and continued to pick off the vampires coming too close.

Milly was, perhaps, the first to realize that they were fighting for a hopelessly lost cause. Not only were the day walking bloodsuckers flooding in like the tide, there seemed to be no end to them. And they were getting closer.

She almost felt like giving up and running, when, quite suddenly, as she shot off her stun gun once more, she realized that Meryl was still stuck somewhere in the middle of the whole mess. Waiting, just waiting for someone to help her.

_Oh, sempai!_ Milly cried in her head, watching as the vampires finally broke the ten foot mark as Nicholas pulled two more guns from the upright cross at his side.

She shook a wave of water from her hair and blinked quickly before deciding her next move. She had several options, but only one really appealed to her.

She was_ supposed _to be a vampire hunter, after all. Meryl's faithful collaborate, her best friend since their late teen years.

With one tremendous cry that broke the pounding of the storm overhead, Milly hefted her large gun off around, and as the first vampire reached her, swung it around in a wide arc. The heavy piece of machinery connected with the vampire's head full force, sending the man swinging around and the gun into another target's head.

Then, the tall woman hefted the huge gun over her shoulder with one arm and batted her cloak aside quickly. Her hand came back with a pointed stake just in time to spear a bloodsucker through the heart. She didn't even wait to watch its death as she ripped the wooden stake out and went onto another. Milly's eyes were no longer a peaceful blue, but twin pairs of stormy cobalt rocks, cold as ice and harder than granite.

Within moments, she was engulfed in the fray in a fighting rage, determined to find her partner.

Vash had been aiming to aim. He had been aiming to slow his fellow daywalkers down, to keep them at bay while he tried to scan the area with his mind, searching frantically for Knives. Soon, however, he realized that they couldn't be kept back much longer. To his right, Wolfwood went under the fray after Milly, four guns stuck in his belt, two in his hands. They were the last of his weapons, as he had already used up five of the revolvers while shooting madly at the vampires.

Now Vash was the only one left clear, and the lord give him mercy, he had no more bullets.

The crowd was descending fast, and he realized that nearly none of the vampires held guns, only crude weapons such as cudgels, daggers, chains and even fists. Teeth, too, he supposed, but that didn't bother him. He had a set of his own, after all, and if these half bloods could fight bear handed so could he, even in his weakened state.

Vash tightened the grip on his gun and brought it crashing down on the first vampire's head, and then threw himself forward into the thick melee, striking out with his hands and fists, grabbing chains and wrapping them about their owner's necks, redirecting bludgeon paths to their owner's heads, faces, limbs. Frantically, blinded and drenched by the onslaught of rain, he tried to catch sight of Knives, get a whiff of him, sense him. The enormous presence of the vampires around him, however, made it extremely difficult, each with their own thoughts and abilities.

It didn't take too long, however, because the impenetrable brotherly bond between two brothers was utterly inseparable.

It was just a prick in the edge of his mind as he sent his fist in a wide arc towards a particularly troublesome man. The thought of pure, irrefutable _joy_, happiness, sick pleasure.

Knives, he knew. No one could feel such things like his brother could.

Vash went down under a crowd of vampires, and they forced him abruptly to the wet ground. His face connected with the pavement with a loud splash, one side of his head dunking down into a large pool of grimy, dirty London filth. The blonde was crushed under the sheer immensity of weight atop him, and his weakened state of mind only caused him to collapse sooner.

But Vash was determined, and he didn't often find himself very motivated. Such was the reason why today was so special. He could actually find the effort within himself to do something, _something_. He hadn't quite figured it out yet, but when the time came, he was sure he would know.

And now, it was almost time.

Vash gasped as someone's knee connected with his spine, and he felt himself being forced down to his stomach. Which wasn't a good thing, because once he was down there, he would probably be down there until someone decided to release him, and when Meryl's life was on the line. T

The mere thought gave him enough strength to grit his teeth in pure agony and claw a gloved hand forward along the ground. Slowly, he pulled himself forward, towards the outside of the huge pile atop him.

His other arm was trapped painfully at his side half numb with horrible little jolts of pain winding through his nerve endings like relentless bolts of electricity. Still, though, he managed to pull himself from under the vampires holding him down.

A torrent of rain crashed onto his dirtied face as soon as she wriggled through the pile, and with renewed vigour he shoved himself free of the vampires.

The scene that met him was nothing sort of disturbing.

Disgusting.

Enraging.

There was Knives, in the centre of the circle, the vampires all around him trying to fight off the furious onslaught coming from Milly and Wolfwood. They had managed to corner the two, but Vash didn't notice. There was Knives, no more than ten feet, so close. And there was Meryl, in his arms, in his grasp.

And there was blood. Too much blood.

Ignoring the pandemonium going on around him, Vash ripped himself free from the daywalker's grasp and threw himself at the unsuspecting back of his brother.

Knives, Meryl. Blood, blood, blood. Blood in the rain, blood on the cobblestone street. Blood running through the cracks between the stones, staining the ground in pools…

_So much blood!_ his mind was screaming at him, and he wrenched his twin from Meryl's limp form with a strangled cry.

Furiously, Vash whirled Knives around, and shoved him away. His twin stumbled forward slightly in the rain before righting himself quickly. Vash snarled as his brother turned, and to his disgust, he was grinning, smiling like a madman. He licked his lips, blood running in thin rivulets down his chin, smeared on his cheek.

Meryl's blood…

"Vash…how nice of you to join me!" Knives shouted to his sibling over the roar of the rain. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

Vash stared at the man before him, mixed thoughts running through his mind, pulling him in every which way all at once. Hate, anger, fear, revulsion, contempt, sadness, sickness, desperation, they all spun through his mind like a whirlwind, bidding him to do something, bidding him to shoot his brother, to go to Meryl, to cry,

to vomit, to scream, to laugh…to laugh.

"Knives! What have you done??" he screamed, his mind hurting with the overpowering emotions swirling around within him.

His twin lifted his face to the rain for a moment, letting the water pound down on his face and wash Meryl's blood away. Vash watched as the red liquid seeped down Knives's neck and soaked into his cloak.

Then, the lighter haired twin smiled, icy eyes fixed on Vash.

"The spider lied to me, Vash," he grinned maniacally. "She said you would kill me if I bit her. And I did! But I'm not dead, now isn't that curious?"

Vash stood frozen as Knives began to laugh, his words echoing in the pained depths of his mind. The rain roared in his ears, and he was faintly aware of Milly calling out his name, being restrained by vampires. He was just barely aware of Meryl, who lay in the rain behind him, bleeding, bleeding. He hardly noticed as Knives began backing away, signalling to his remaining followers. He didn't see when Milly and Wolfwood were released and the vampires began to dissipate before moving off.

He couldn't have been standing there fore more than a minute, however, and when he blinked, they were alone. There was no one but the rain. And the questioned remained as she numbly turned to Meryl, as he approached her limp form, as he bent over her.

_Would_ he kill his brother?

Slowly, Vash reached out a numb hand, leaning over the petite woman's still form. He could see the great gash in her neck, blood still seeping quietly from the wound. Hesitantly, he touched her face, and was surprised by the lack of warmth in her skin. She was so pale, lips parted silently in a frown, eyes closed in rest. Vaguely, the thought, _It wasn't supposed to happen like this…_

And it wasn't. It was never supposed to happen this way. Nothing like this was ever supposed to be. Never.

"Short girl…" he asked quietly, barely audible over the rain. There was no response.

Behind him, Milly stared down with forlorn blue eyes. Meryl was so still, so death-like. She wanted to go to her partner's side, but as soon as she took a step forward the priest's arm blocked her way. She glanced over at him, tears running down her cheeks, mingling with the rain. He stared back, face straight but sunken, as though he had lost something dear to him.

Without a second thought, Milly threw herself at the priest, ignoring the wound on her arm and the cut on her side, ignoring the blood seeping down her side. And she cried as Wolfwood's arms slowly wrapped around her trembling form.

And Vash cried, tears coming unbidden to his eyes. He shut them tight as his tears began to fall, and suppressed a choked sob.

"Meryl…Meryl?" he repeated her name quietly, and ran his fingers along her cool skin.

Was she dead, was she gone already? He didn't know, he couldn't tell. There was still took much blood, her skin was too cold, her face was too pale. But he didn't know.

He was surprised, then, when there was the soft touch of fingers across his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. It didn't help any, however, and as he opened his eyes to stare at the small woman, more fell. Her grey eyes were clouded somewhat, but she managed a sort of weak smile.

Something clenched inside of the half-blood, and he grit his teeth against the pain of it, feeling now more than ever the weariness than had crept upon him the past days. And it hurt.

"I'm sorry, Vash," she whispered to him as her eyes drifted shut

Vash didn't know if it was the terrible pain of losing a friend that caused the pain in his chest or something much more significant, but it hurt nonetheless. Unable to force back a sob, he gathered the small woman in his arms and hugged her body close, simply because it seemed to help his pain.

This was never supposed to happen…

"Meryl…" Vash rocked back and forth slightly, tears flowing freely from his eyes. Behind him, Milly cried loudly, her sobs louder than the rain pounding down upon him.

He simply sat there on the bloody street, crying his eyes out, before he noticed something very strange. Very strange indeed…

As far as Vash knew, the dead didn't breath, however faint it might be. And unless she had been turned already, which was quite impossible, she wasn't a vampire. That only led to one thing, and the aching inside of Vash receded somewhat as he lowered Meryl's bloody form to the street once more.

She was alive.

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Reviews? Reviews?

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder **


	27. Hope's in the Horizon

No Want, Not Hunger, No Shame 

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**Chapter 26**

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_She was falling._

_She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out._

_There was darkness all around her. Inky blackness that penetrated the very eyes in her skull, slithering like a snake into the depths of her brain._

_She could feel the wind on her face…_

_In her hair…_

_Stinging her eyes._

_There was a dropping in her stomach, a feeling of ice freezing over her insides._

_And she continued to fall into the dark abyss. She was sure it had no end._

_A never-ending chasm of shadows that would leave her falling forever._

_Or lead her to the depths of Hell…_

_And then there was a blinding pain, spreading from her toes up her legs…_

_Winding up the veins in her thighs, into her stomach, through the bones of her ribs—_

_Up into her lungs, to her shoulders—_

_It flowed down the strands of muscle and tissue in her arms, swirling down to her wrists—_

_To the very tips of her fingers like the very blood inside her was burning up, scalding hot, steaming—_

_White-hot light slid up her throat, into her nose and eyes—_

_And into the very edges of her brain, still winding into the organs in her chest—_

_To her heart._

_Into the very essence of her being…_

_And there it resided, hot, painful, impartial…_

_Increasing until she finally couldn't take it anymore, and when she opened her mouth to scream again there was noise._

And she did scream… 

_Stop all the pain! Stop it! Stop it! _her conscious mind was screaming somewhere in the depths of her head.

Meryl's eyes shot open suddenly, her pupils dilating as they were hit full-force by a wave of light. The intensity of it blinding her as though she had just dared to stare into the face of the sun.

_Light!_

Where was she? Where was the light coming from? Why did she hurt so?

There was pain somewhere in her neck; a burning that caused her head to ache. Panicking, she gasped out loudly, blinking against the light and the pain. But it would not leave, and she shot up from her position on her back.

Something latched onto her arms and legs, winding its way around her body, and she yelled hoarsely in fright and frustration. Weakly, she fought off the attacks, but only managed to become more entangled in the nameless monster's embrace. Angrily, she tried to clear her vision, pain aching in her head and muffling the sounds around her.

Something else grabbed her around her middle, forcing her to stop thrashing within the grasp of the monsters, but she would not be subdued that easily and give into the evil creature's will.

Regaining some of her strength, she struggled angrily within the creature's grasp, clawing and screaming profusely. Her elbow connected with the thing behind her, and the grasp around her loosened slightly. It was enough, and she pushed away from the monster to grab the tentacles entangled with her legs. She pulled at them fiercely, a scream of pure animalistic rage tearing from her lips.

Somewhere behind her, there was muffled noise. Shouting, maybe? Yelling? She couldn't see. Couldn't hear properly…

Meryl's temper flared as she was entrapped again, and she kicked her entangled limbs wildly, knocking both herself and her attacker over. They hit a hard surface, the monsters clawing at her legs still holding her within their grasp.

She threw a punch at the creature, and her fist hit a hard surface. Madly, she grasped at the thing, her fingers entangling within some sort of fabric. Furious at her entrapment, she clawed angrily at her attacker.

There were shouts again, muffled and unintelligible. She ignored them.

Her hands found it's neck, and she wound her fingers around the creature's throat, a feral snarl on her lips.

Shouts echoed in her head.

White lights danced across her vision.

Meryl's brow furrowed suddenly, and she stilled as she realized there was no movement around her except the harsh heaving of the creature beneath her. She watched as the sparkling light across her eyes began to dart away, and her stormy grey eyes followed them around as they faded.

Slowly, she began to realize something.

The small lights, like small fairies dancing before her eyes, slowly dissipated, and Meryl screwed her eyes shut for a moment. Her were still wrapped around the neck of the…the something under her.

And she realized that the monsters entangling her legs were not moving, not breathing, not pulsating with evil life.

Her attacker was still, breathing slowly as if afraid of provoking her.

Meryl's eyes snapped open, and she nearly shrieked out in fright at the face before her.

"VASH??!" she exclaimed, bewildered.

Indeed, the creature she had pinned to the floor, her hands wrapped tightly around his neck, was no other that Vash himself. Weakly, he managed to smile up at her.

"Nice to see you're…up," he all but gasped.

Meryl stared, still somewhat horrified to find the nameless creature she had been fighting off had just been Vash…a harmless vampire, well he was as harmless as a vampire could get. Slowly, then, she turned her head to glance behind her. Her legs, which just a moment before had been entangled within the tentacles and claws of faceless monsters, were now wrapped up and snared within the sheets of the bed sitting behind her.

That was when she noticed she was in her room, same as ever except the overturned chair by her dresser.

She stared down at Vash, confusion written upon her face. "What…?" she asked, letting the sentence hang, as she didn't quite know herself how to end it.

The blonde winced slightly, and raised a hand in meek objection. "First, maybe, you could…let go of my neck?" he turned the statement into a humble request.

It took a moment, but eventually Meryl's eyes snapped down to her hands, which were wrapped firmly around Vash's neck as though she was going to choke him. Which she had been trying to do only minutes before…

"Oh!" she exclaimed, somewhat embarrassed, and quickly pulled back from him, sitting more or less on her haunches. "I…I'm…sorry."

"Oh no, no need," Vash began sardonically. "I quite enjoy being strangled to death by half-dead short women."

Meryl glared, her fingers hooking into what resembled claws.

Fortunately—because Vash would have been doomed otherwise—or unfortunately—because of the position the two were in—there was a quick knock on the door, and not waiting for an answer, someone stepped into the room.

It was none other than Wolfwood.

Vash and Meryl turned their heads to the priest, looking abashed at the look they received from the man.

He stared at the two for a long moment, a cigarette held poised halfway to his lips, eyebrows raised in mild surprise, with a completely incomprehensible look in his eyes. Then, he took a long drag from the cigarette.

A long trail of smoke was blown from Wolfwood's lips as he finally spoke. "Really, I'm glad you're back with us, Meryl…but should you really be engaging in such activities so soon?" he drawled on teasingly.

Meryl scowled, and immediately she was up off Vash and standing on her feet. All the blood seemed to rush down from her head, and she stumbled slightly as black spots marred her vision. She noticed she was dressed in one of her long nightshirts, and it hung just below her knees. Despite being clad in her nightwear, she still managed to keep an air of authority about her. Ignoring the dizziness and it buzzed around her head, she shot a pointed glare at Wolfwood.

"Dirty priest, get your bloody mind out of the gutter!" she snapped irritably.

Vash slowly hauled himself up from the floor. Meryl cast him a quick glance, one unseen by both men. She noticed he was looking even more flaccid and paler since the last time she had seen him. He looked much weaker, and she suddenly remembered she had been the one to let the serum Milly had made into Knives's hands.

Quite suddenly, a hundred questions were running madly through her head.

How she made it from the street to her bed? She couldn't remember.

What had happened? Anything beyond losing Vash's serum was lost on her.

Why had she been in her bed? Had she been injured?

How long _had_ it been since she had last seen Vash? Time seemed to be lost on her.

How long had she been trapped in that nightmarish state? Her mind was drawing blanks on all her silent inquiries.

And why was Wolfwood staring at her so strangely?

Frowning, Meryl met the priest's dark-eyed gaze. "What's going on?" she demanded, as that seemed the most logical question to ask.

Both men regarded her even more strangely after she said that. Perhaps that hadn't been the most logical question to ask. But when they noticed her genuine confusion, both exchanged a knowing look.

Tipping his head to the side slightly, Vash tapped the side of his neck with his finger, and silent answer to her question.

Meryl's brow knotted, her eyes scanning over Wolfwood's before met with Vash's sea-green gaze. Her own hazy grey eyes narrowed slightly, but not in anger. Hesitantly, she reached up, her fingers hovering over her neck in uncertainty. She tipped her head slightly, eyes drifting from Vash's face to fix themselves on the hardwood floor beneath her feet. Cold, uncomforting. The fire blazing merrily in the hearth to her side did not reach her, it's heat repelled by the blood in her veins.

Her fingers brushed over a bandage, and for the first time she noticed there was a wrapping around her neck. The brief and gentle touch caused by her fingers seemed to upset the bandages, the contact sending and unseen aggravation to the wound. It ached painfully as her hand fell to her side.

And everything seemed to fly back with the force of steam engine, colliding painfully inside her head and increasing the dull thudded ache within her skull.

Vash and Wolfwood watched as Meryl's entire being seemed to slump, weary lines of fatigue drawing under her dull, dreary eyes. Her lips pulled into a thin, white line, and her shoulders sagged with the impact of the memories inside her head.

Almost instantly, Vash regretted his harsh words from earlier.

Meryl's however, wasn't the one to break down and weep. She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin almost proudly, the only element setting her off the desperate sorrow radiating from the depths of her grey-pool eyes.

"How long has it been?" she asked, a muscle in her cheek clenching as if she was fighting an oncoming tide of tears.

Although the question itself was vague, Wolfwood and Vash both knew what she asked.

"Two days, this being the second," the smoking priest answered calmly. "It's almost dinner, and Milly is downstairs waiting for Vash and myself. We can talk more over burnt stew and homemade rock-bread."

The barest hint of a smile flickered over Meryl's face, and she nodded silently.

Wolfwood let a rare, lopsided grin fall on his lips, and he blew a steady stream of smoke at the vampire beside him. "Good. Needlenoggin and I'll leave you get dresses and whatnot, so be down in five minutes," he announced, and took the half-blood by the arm, steering them both from the shelter of Meryl's room. He stopped as they reached the door, and shoving Vash out unceremoniously, he took the doorknob in his hand and turned to the petite woman. "And try not to fall down the stairs, shorty, I know you're not in the best working order."

And with that, before Meryl could reply, he was gone and she was left along in the warmth of her bedroom, the crackling of wood in the fireplace the only sound besides the beating of her heart and the quiet intake of breath.

But not for long.

--

As Wolfwood had indicated, the supper presented to the four individuals was less than perfect, but they ate anyway. Wolfwood because he apparently liked it. Milly because she wouldn't notice the difference between burnt and perfectly baked bread if her life depended on it. Vash ate simply because he could, and Meryl forced down the meal with fake enthusiasm because she knew she needed all the strength she could get.

Over the time spent conversing with the three, Meryl learnt that many things had gone on with the absence of her conscious mind to inject her professional opinion.

Quite simply, the things she was told over dinner was nothing less than spectacular.

All three had told her of the fight they had entered to get her back, and the brief and horrible moment they had thought her dead. She spoke of the cross Wolfwood had carried into battle, the sheer amount of vampires that had attacked them, how they had been close to losing, how Knives had retreated with a self-satisfied smirk upon his face.

Upon questioning the bandage around her neck, Milly had replied that she had made a special poultice with garlic, meant to slow down the effects of the turning for a good few days. Upon being reminded that she was turning into a heartless devil of the night, Meryl's mood had abruptly turned for the worse, a scowl taking up permanent residence on her

That had brought them to the questions around her situation. Meryl had reluctantly told the three of Knives's intentions towards herself and the world, her attention fixed on Vash nearly the entire time. She watched every single emotion and reaction that flitted across his face. He betrayed nothing. She knew not if he had told the priest and her partner of his upbringings, the fact that he was none other than Knives's brother by blood and family.

Grudgingly, the small woman did not bother to bring it up. Even in her sour mood, she knew that Vash was trustworthy. He had stayed with them this far, had fought of his brother, and had shot his own kin trying to get to her. She decided she would bring it up later, just to see what he had to say for himself. And, of course, to see him squirm. She was still bitter about his comment on her height earlier.

She deserved payback.

As she brooded, Meryl hadn't realized Milly had spoken to her, and now she glanced at the woman to her right. "What? Sorry, Milly, I didn't catch that…" she said, somewhat distantly.

"I said, Sempai, that the three of us, while you were sleeping, came up with a solution to all of our problems!" Milly announced, cheerfully despite the atmosphere.

Meryl quirked an eyebrow at her partner before her eyes swept over the two men. She had noticed the slightly uneasy air around them the whole time she had been sitting in their midst, but now it intensified, doubling into a stiff tension.

"A solution to all our problems?" she asked.

Wolfwood shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. Perhaps Milly wasn't supposed to tell her for a while yet, Meryl mused thoughtfully. She fixed her gaze on the priest, deciding he was the one to tell her. No doubt, it had been his solution, or he wouldn't look so apprehensive.

"Care to fill me in, Nicholas?" Meryl asked, leaning back in her chair.

It was Vash, however, who revealed the "plan."

"We plan to go to Knives's castle and get the serum he had hidden away there. With that, Milly can easily take it apart and find what its made of, and not only will you be cured and be unturned, you can use it to change everyone who ever walked the earth as a human back into one," Vash explained, but he didn't sound very enthusiastic.

_Blunt_ Meryl thought idly, and turned her attention to Vash. "You don't even know what that serum can do. You don't even know if it actually exists."

Milly cut in abruptly. "But there's the hope, Sempai. We can't sit around and do nothing."

"And the hope is scattered once you find there is no serum and nothing can be done, and the inevitable is just that!" Meryl spoke harshly, not knowing exactly why she was arguing but for the fact that she was doing just that.

Wolfwood spoke then, his voice low and serious, "That poultice won't last the rest of your life, Meryl. Don't be stupid, Milly's right. If my count is right, Milly's only made up for the two days you've spent in your bed. And you know what that means, Meryl." He fixed the petite woman with a piercing gaze. "Three days maximum. That's all you have."

Meryl leaned back into her chair as the grave reality of her situation fell onto her shoulders like a dead weight. Why was she arguing? Was she so far infected, so far gone into the grasps of vampire-hood that she no longer had the ability to think or speak rationally? Wasn't this what her father had always wanted? To rid the people of the world of the infectious plague known as vampires?

Why _was_ she argueing? Her last hope was held within that serum.

And yet, she still protested. "You don't even know where his castle is."

Silence settled over the group as that realization hit them full in the face.

"I do," Vash spoke then, and the remaining three turned to stare at him. "I've been there," he insisted.

Meryl's eyes hooded as she translated that subtle hint in her head. "And you're willing to lead us there?" she asked him suddenly.

The half-blood's aqua gaze met her steely grey eyes, and they simply stared for a moment. He seemed to search her face for a moment, slight unease trailing over his features. Meryl noticed he had paled even more, so much his skin seemed ghostly. Dead.

He needed that serum as much as she.

"I wouldn't offer if I didn't plan to, shorty," Vash stated coldly.

Milly and Wolfwood exchanged a worried look as the two bickered.

Meryl smiled coldly. "Just making sure you don't plan on selling us out, blondie," she announced as a finality, and gathered her dishes from the table.

Despite the coldness of the hunter and vampire, there was no mistaking the undeniable emotion that had entered the room.

Hope.

Milly had been right. There was always the hope.

--

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	28. Moment in the Waiting

No Want, No Hunger, No Shame 

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**Chapter 26**

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It was morning; the day after Meryl had awoken from the feverish sleep Knives had forced her into. A day after the nightmare had fully revealed itself and she had found she was doomed. The living dead on her last legs. Waiting, waiting.

Today was the day they had planned to go gallivanting off in search of Knives's castle, a place where only Vash could lead them. And just as they had planned, it was slowly happening. They just needed a mode of transportation first, because in this case walking just wouldn't do it.

Wolfwood, the priest, had left to pick up the carriage and horses that would bring them through the winding roads and muddy gravel paths across the greening and rolling English countryside to their destination.

They were just waiting.

Vash sat stiffly on the bed he had taken up in Meryl's residence. He had been sitting there for the past half hour in the company of the steady pitter-patter of the rain falling outside. He ignored the thin silver rivulets of water running down the windowpane, their edges ringed with condensation from the heat and warmth of the house. Milly had told him she couldn't stand cold houses and had then insisted on stoking up every hearth and using every chimney to keep all the rooms warm.

Not that he minded. It was a nice change from the frigid place Meryl kept without company over.

He enjoyed the warmth; it reminded him that he could feel. It reminded him of that small human part of him still hidden inside, longing for the warmth. It reminded him that he was not totally lost to the need for blood, which helped him more than he cared to admit nowadays.

Lately, he could feel the strength steadily waning from his tired and worn body. He was feeling ever year his age, one hundred thirty five. It was becoming a chore, tiring, but he continued to tell himself that it was almost over. Meryl, Milly and Wolfwood had been searching for the cure Knives held locked away for years now, hadn't they? It was supposed to be a miracle, something only a vampire like himself would want, and a group like Meryl's to long for. It was something only those with the greatest imaginations could fathom, meant to save the world from evil.

It seemed like a dream. An unreachable dream. Even now he didn't know how they would get to it, into the castle, under Knives's nose. It was near impossible.

But the petite woman had a terrible need for it now. It was made out to cure any illness, the un-dead, the near un-dead. He wondered if she longed for it like he did, dreamed of the cure to his curse…

A sudden sharp knocking on his door caused him to jump slightly, his sea-green eyes—previously hooded with sleep—darting up from the floorboards to the door. He cleared his throat slightly and rolled his shoulders, wondering whom it could be. Had Wolfwood brought the carriage back already?

"Come in!" he called out, voice wavering slightly, sleep wanting nothing more than to claim him and take him for its own.

He watched at the doorknob turned and the door opened, revealing none other than Meryl Stryfe herself.

_Speak of the devil…_ his mind murmured lightly. She seemed to pop up at the strangest times…

He forced himself to concentrate and raised his eyebrows at the woman, asking his question with his eyes. Her own steely grey gaze narrowed at him, the sides of her lips twisting into a small frown. It was a familiar frown, one directed at him more than he cared to count.

Vash hadn't spoken to her since dinner the night before, preferring to seclude himself from the company of the three humans lest he do something stupid. Namely trying to bite Meryl. She wouldn't be able to handle that kind of stress, he knew. He wasn't stupid. He knew what the bite did to humans, it tortured them and haunted them, stinging and biting like a terrible flesh wound that would never heal.

There was silence in the warm room, and he decided to speak when she showed no intention of starting conversation. Vash figured she must have had something to say, though, since she had gone through all the effort of coming to his room—her room, the guest room.

"You can shut the door behind you, if you want," he started casually, not sure if he was merely trying to be polite or was trying to get a rise out of her. She wasn't fool enough to stay in a room alone with him, not after he had nearly succeeded in sinking his fangs into her neck…

So, he was more than surprised when she nodded stiffly and closed the door firmly shut behind her. He watched in silence, slightly confused, as she leaned her back onto the hard surface. She met his inquiring gaze levelly, daring him to speak.

Vash knew better than to spark the fuse leading to her temper.

Instead, he tried his best at pleasant conversation. He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries, however, so he might have sounded rougher and more clipped than usual. His patience was getting away, that was why, and he wanted to get going. All the waiting was getting to him.

"Can I help you with something, shorty?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at the petite woman.

To his utmost shock, she actually smiled. Although he couldn't exactly place the smile. Was it angry, amused, genuine? All three?

"Actually, Vash, I've been meaning to speak with you. I haven't gotten the time to get a word in with Milly around, though…" she started, and trailed off a moment as if she wasn't sure she should continue.

Vash pursed his lips suddenly. Why was he suddenly getting a feeling of unpleasant unease in his stomach?

"What is it?" he asked, almost hesitantly, putting up his best childish face in hopes of warding off any sudden attacks. Who was she to attack the picture of innocence?

Meryl stared at him for a moment. Simply gazed at him continually, not moving, not speaking. He flinched under her inspection, and she snapped to attention, looking slightly wary.

He was glad he wasn't the only one.

"It occurred to me a while ago…" she began slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. "I assume you've met Knives before?"

Vash felt his stomach twist into several unpleasantly tight knots, and he eyed her a moment before shaking his head slowly, blonde hair flopping slightly. He told himself it wasn't a good idea to put himself in the spotlight with Knives. It was better that she had no clue they had met, no less related. The feeling of treading on thin ice remained with him, however.

Meryl's eyes narrowed, and any hesitation she might have had slowly dissolved, leaving nothing but five feet of unconvinced, angry woman. She recalled her dream, the knife that had betrayed Vash, the brother that had betrayed Vash. She recalled how he had smiled as blood ran down her neck, bright eyes happy and calm. She recalled the words Knives had whispered into her ear just before he sunk his filthy fangs into her flesh, the things he had told her. Vash loved humans, and as much as that kept her from hurting the man, she could still feel anger. Anger was simple. She felt anger towards Milly when she was too persistent, to Nicholas when he was prodding. To Vash when he was lying.

"Well, that's strange, Vash. I could have sworn you two knew each other. Friend's maybe?" she asked, and the half-blood felt his heart drop.

She knew, she knew, she knew, she knew!

He was going to die! She was going to pull out a stake and ram it through his heart! That's why she closed the door behind her, so Milly wouldn't be bothered with the disturbed screams emitting from the room as he slowly faded into a pile of dead ashes and dust!

Vash imagined he looked like a deer caught in the middle of clearing full of hunters, for Meryl's stance relaxed slightly and she took a deep breath. He, however, could feel his stomach pull in on itself, and he waited for the inevitable flash of silver or glimpse of wood. Resolutely, his eyes snapped shut as he waited for the pain.

It never came.

And he had never felt so hesitant over anything in his life, but he managed to crack open an eye and wonder where impending doom had gotten to all of a sudden. Instead, in the place of impending doom was a sombre looking Meryl. The difference between the two was somewhat lost on the half-blood. She was gazing down at him with an unreadable expression, her eyes guarded. He didn't like that look, it was so cold.

Shifting backwards on the bed, Vash blinked several times with his gaze not straying from her face. What was wrong with this woman? How could someone be so threatening without even doing anything?

He imagined they must have stared at each other for a good few minutes before either of them spoke up, both knowing that the other knew exactly what had brought Meryl to his room. The question of Knives and Vash's relation with him. After all, how could two people who had never met look so alike and know so much about each other.

Vash opened his mouth to speak, the silence broken only by the rain weighing heavily upon his shoulders. It took him a moment to find his voice, the surprise he was feeling clearly evident on his pale features, he was sure.

"I…I don't know what to say…" he said, almost in a whisper, fingers twitching nervously at his side.

"Then answer me a question," she replied evenly, her eyes not betraying a single emotion she was feeling. Oh, and the confliction thoughts and tangle of things she was feeling!

Vash hesitated. Wasn't he supposed to be the one wearing the masks? But even as that question popped into his head he nodded slowly.

"Were you ever planning on telling any of us that you were related to Knives, his brother no less? I'm sure Wolfwood would have found this information terribly interesting, Vash, and Milly. I wonder how she would react," Meryl wondered, pursing her lips at the vampire, almost feeling bad for him.

Vash felt his eyebrow twitch as guilt outweighing the silence settled comfortably on his shoulders, forcing him down. What _would_ they say? How would they react? Would they hate him for keeping it to himself? Would they be afraid of him? He averted his gaze from the small woman, feeling a familiar stinging behind his eyes that he had grown accustomed to during his life. He cried for himself, for everyone around him, for Knives, whom no matter how much help he received, it was never enough.

He held back the tears, though, long enough to answer the woman's question as she stared down upon him, unpitying.

Shaking his head, he gathered his voice and replied truthfully, "No, I didn't. It was easier to keep it behind me and focus on the present."

Meryl watched at the vampire struggled to fight his tears and relented somewhat. "So you were trying to forget? But Knives isn't one to forgive and forget, is he?" she asked, taking a slow step back from the man and turned, letting her eyes trail to the window. The rain ran in trails of tears, the sky crying as the last of winter melted away and spring imposed its presence.

"I've tried to help him, but Knives hates humans…no matter what I say I can't change his mind," Vash spoke quietly, his eyes burning at the mention of his brother.

Meryl raised a hand to trail her fingers lightly along the poultice at her neck. How many days had Nick said she had left? She cast a grim smile at the half-blood. "I figured that…although, I don't understand one thing."

"What?" Vash asked miserably, feeling more and more like a lying, cheating criminal the longer Meryl stood there.

She faced Vash once more, her grey eyes settling on his broken form. _We're not much different,_ she realized, _We're both on our last legs and ready to give up and give in…_ Out loud, she spoke softly, eyes trained on the seemingly young man, "Why did you leave?"

He blinked slightly, brow furrowing, and tilted his head up to stare in confusion. When had he left?

Meryl sensed his unspoken question. "Why did you leave Knives, I mean. He seems to want you back more than anything."

Blinking, Vash let her meaning dawn upon him. Slowly, he gathered his thoughts enough to form a coherent sentence, the burning behind his eyes threatening to spill over. "My mother was a human," he answered at first, lowly.

Meryl waiting, knowing that couldn't be all.

It wasn't. Vash continued with the barest hint of a waver hidden in his voice, and Meryl was once again struck with the image of how human the man before her really was.

"Her name was Rem. She loved my father very much despite him being…a vampire. They loved each other, and when Knives and I were born as twins, they loved us." Here he paused, taking a deep breath, and the petite woman watched him silently. "But just because we were twins didn't mean we thought the same. Knives had taken after my father, even though he was a good man…I must have taken after Rem, because I seemed to be the only one besides my father who shed tears when she died," he spoke quietly, not quite knowing why he was telling Meryl so much but did so anyway. "Knives grew to be a true vampire…ruthless and bloodthirsty. He had hated our mother and her humanistic values. I followed Rem's dreams. She frowned upon traditional vampire ideas, the taking of one life to support another…" Vash trailed off, his voice fading.

Meryl suddenly felt more like a horrible person than anything else.

Meryl hadn't ever been one to openly admit her feelings. To become overly enthusiastic, excited, giggly, happy. Or sad. She had never been one to get too attached to someone—except Milly, because she was different. They had known each other for ages. And the priest. She supposed Nicholas counted too, even if he was a secretive, dirty, rude man. Odd for a priest.

And then there was the man before her. The half-blooded vampire cursed with a half-life. He had been cursed with a repulsive excuse for a brother and a human mother who valued the ways of humans. And a father who was a Lord—and a vampire.

Somehow, sometime—she didn't quite know herself—this sorry excuse for a man, a vampire, both forced into one body and forced to share the same soul and heart, the same mind and thoughts…and even with all of these, he had managed to weasel his way into her life. And she had to admit (only to herself), that she didn't mind half as much as she said she did. The way she acted, she supposed it was her own carefully build and heavily guarded wall protecting her from unwanted eyes and strangers. She had often thought—sarcastically—that she was some sort of high royalty. Any fools she disliked weren't able to get through, and only the ones she chose herself would be given a chance.

It was utterly ridiculous, she knew. But that was the reason she only had two friends besides her cup of tea—because she only wanted two friends. Because she had allowed them to be friends.

And Vash. Vash? She really didn't know what it was about Vash. But he had entered her life quite promptly, and from then on hadn't left entirely.

And she found she didn't really mind.

Meryl faced the blonde slowly, watching him with his head bowed, a pathetic sight even if he wasn't crying. No, he was holding the tears back quite boldly, she figured. Her face darkened somewhat, she had never known a vampire to be so emotional. Truly, he seemed more human than anything else. Overly human—sensitive and caring. And deeply wounded.

"Vash?"

She wouldn't make him finish, even if he would, even if he wanted to. He didn't have to. It wasn't her place. She wasn't anyone to take charge of his life so much as to begin making decisions for him. He wasn't insensitive, inhuman, but quite the opposite. She wondered if he was even human sometimes. If they both switched positions their personalities would seem to fit perfectly.

He was staring up at her with his aquamarine eyes—the colour of the London harbour on a warm, bright day in summer.

"You don't have to finish," Meryl spoke softly, kindly, something she didn't often do. When could she afford it?

But now? With her life ending even as they spoke and Vash's mind breaking down as he sat there, crystal tears rimming his eyes. Which suddenly seemed much more bright than before, more alive than before…was she to go on with her steely façade? One even Milly was tiring from?

Vash blinked up at her in indecision, feeling slightly bemused and uncomfortable. _Where was the priest when you need him?? _he thought dryly, but didn't show it. Now this Meryl…this Meryl was slightly different. And he wasn't sure if he was used to it.

"I thought you wanted me to tell you why I left…" he answered finally, slowly.

Meryl blinked and looked away, unable to keep his gaze for long. "I already knew why you left," she said lowly. "To get away from your brother, who wanted nothing more for you to rule at his side with him, to be with him. To take your place where you should be, even right now, thinking up new and sadistic ways for your people to overcome mine, to slaughter them and drink every last fresh drop of blood within sight."

Vash narrowed his eyes slightly, tears suddenly forgotten. Now she was insulting him?

"I know why you left Vash. Because you couldn't stand the sight of the blood and the disease, and the dying! You couldn't stand the death all around you, to pure enjoyment your brother got from taking a life to sustain his own…so you left," she quipped simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, casting a quick glance to see Vash glaring at her. "Don't look at me like I'm the enemy."

The half-blood frowned. "I'm not."

Meryl resisted the urge to huff. It was ridiculous. "I know what you want, too," she stated boldly, if not too much so. She wasn't jumping too far ahead, was she? She hoped not. "You want to be rid of that life, don't you? And Knives, who won't leave you alone, even in your sleep? Who calls to you and taunts you with dreams and visions, laughing and smiling with his cold blue eyes."

Now what was she going on? Even Meryl herself didn't know! And Vash was staring at her like she was some sort of lunatic.

"That's why you're leading us to him, right?" she demanded critically, but not angrily. "You're sick of it, aren't you?"

Vash stared, face suddenly slack. "How would you know? You weren't a mind reader last time I checked," he answered coolly.

Meryl quirked and eyebrow at him. "You'd be surprised to know what I do, broomhead."

His brow furrowed at the name, but he recognized her attempt to lighten the dark air surrounding the room. So he cracked a smile, one of the small ones that Meryl had grown so attached to she now found she adored with a passion and missed terribly when they weren't there. When had they become so comfortable with each other? She had no idea herself. Perhaps they had always been, from the moment he had decided to spare her—half because of the knife wound in his gut. Or maybe when she had caught his eye in the market, and began searching desperately when she lost it. When she had first seen his brother's cold eyes staring back at her from the window of a black carriage and had known danger was coming, or when he had inadvertently saved Milly and herself from a pack of bloodthirsty nightwalkers? Or maybe when she had dragged his body half way across London in the middle of a raging storm, catching a cold herself and waking up to find he had set up residence in her spare room.

Or maybe before they had met? Surely it had been decided long before either had been born, that the fates would bring together two such opposite souls and force them under one roof, force them to understand one another.

Meryl wasn't quite sure she was at that point, but she was close. Close was all she needed. She was dying, was she not? If this was all a hoax, at least she would know she had been close, and Vash and herself had shared an odd relationship. She would know that they had met.

God, how she loved that smile. It reminded her of Milly. Bright, carefree. How could a man who so many years under his arm still smile such a genuine smile?

Meryl hadn't realized she's been smiling back until there came a knock upon the door, and without waiting for an answer, it swung open. Milly's head poked through, a smile mirroring the one Vash had worn seconds before plastered across her face. She didn't even seem surprised to see Meryl with Vash.

"Mr. Priest is back, I've packed all of our things," she chirped breezily. "Now, all's left is to get ourselves in and be on our way. We don't have all year, you know!" The last sentence must have come out more easily than she intended, for moments later Milly looked bashful.

Meryl merely smiled, the one that tilted her head and softened her stormy eyes to a calm haze while her lips curled to the faintest of arcs. "We'll be there in a moment, Milly. Just tell Nick not to leave without us."

And Milly smiled. And everything was all right again. "Of course, sempai! But the horses are a bit jumpy!" she said, and grinned briefly at Vash before closing the door quietly behind her.

As Meryl turner her attention back to Vash, she noticed he had a troubled sort of look on his face. "What's wrong now?" she asked, slightly weary of the man's constant change of mood.

Once again, those aquamarine eyes darted up to her. "They'll want to know, I guess," he stated vaguely, and his gaze fell to the floor.

It took Meryl a moment to realize what he was saying. His brother, Knives. He was worried what Milly and Wolfwood would think. She smiled.

Vash suddenly found a small, slender hand sticking in front of his face, and his gaze only lingered for the briefest of moments before turning up to it's owner. She was smiling at him, a kind smile he'd seen directed at him so little it surprised him. That, and the fact she seemed to be waiting for him to take her hand coupled his bewilderment. His brown furrowed and he sensed Meryl was having a hard time trying not to roll her eyes at him. What had he missed?

"But they don't need to know," she stated with the slightest hint of exasperation.

"But they'd want to," he shot back.

Meryl briefly thought of taking her hand back and smacking him over the head, but she stood firm, offering her hand. "They'll know when you _want_ them to," she pressed. "And that doesn't mean now. I'm sure everyone has enough things to think about."

Vash gazed up at her with the lost expression of a smile child before his eyes once again settled on her outstretched hand. Sighing slightly, he took it, and with a combined effort, he was standing before the petite woman with his height towering over her.

He could tell she wasn't the least bit intimidated by him, so he let another grin grace his face.

Meryl smiled back, glad they had come to a mutual agreement. What left was there to do but leave with their hearts slightly elevated? Goodness knows they needed it. They needed everything they could get, both knowing the next few days would most likely be the most difficult of their lives.

But neither minded as much now they knew they weren't the only one.

It wasn't so bad, and certainly not the end of the world.

Amen to that.

**--**

**I just wanted to answer a few quick questions here:**

**1) Is Meryl going to die or just turn into a vampire?**

Hmmm, I dunno, I guess you'll just have to find out, eh? I'd like to think I have enough tricks up my sleeve to keep you guessing for a while yet, so prepare to keep guessing, lol!

**2) Are Vash and Meryl ever going to get together/admit their feelings for each other?**

I give you a guarantee: YES! Yes, yes, yes! :P But as the genre on this fic says, this is NOT a romance, so don't expect all the lovey dovey gooey ooey kinda stuff, ya know what I mean? I know, you all want your romance, and I'll say myself that I wouldn't mind a heavy dosage myself, but with all the dark angsty stuff going on, well it's kinda hard to turn the tables and have everyone all over each other! ;) But yes, I had hoped this chapter was a bit of a step up towards that final goal, so we'll see how it turns out, eh?

**3) Since they all live in England, they all have English accents, right?**

Hmmm, to tell you the truth I never thought of that! Lol, but sure, I guess. It would sound funny, wouldn't it?

**4) Will the serum really help Vash (since he was born a vampire and was never really a human)?**

Okay, I suppose I should have been a bit more clear on that. Maybe I'll go back and clear that up a bit later, but anyway…I assume you're talking about the serum they're going after now, right? Okay? Yes, well, what I meant was any vampire who had any human blood in them could use the serum to become a human. And since Vash is _half_ human, I think that qualifies enough. Or maybe I should tweak that a bit and say that the serum can heal anyone, anything, anytime, anyplace and for whatever reason at all. Which makes it a pretty kick ass piece of work, eh?

**If I've missed anyone's questions, you can always email them to me or simply write them in a review. I'm sorry if I did, I'm just in a hurry to get his chapter up! ;)**

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	29. Comfort in the Other

**No Want, No Hunger, No Shame**

--

**Chapter 28**

**--**

The sky outside was overcast, a deep grey that sent the world into a depressing darkness despite it being only half past noon. The group of four had been traveling for a good few hours now, Wolfwood sitting upon the bench up front. He was driving the two horses pulling the carriage like a slave driver. Milly had joined him with her umbrella several times, finding some excuse to escape from the heavy company of the half-blooded vampire and the vampire hunter, who sat solemnly side-by-side, each staring out opposite windows inside the carriage.

The atmosphere was heavy, something Milly fretted even she couldn't lift.

Vash had announced it would take no more than a day to reach Purebrood, home of Knives, his brother and currently the largest obstacle in their way. However, they hadn't counted on the roads to be so washed out from the rainy spring weather, and all four had had to pile out from the carriage more than once to help the two horses pull a wheel from a deep, muddy pothole.

And the farther they got from London's cobblestone streets, the farther they got from civilization and houses, so the roads were reduced to dirt and gravel, unused and overgrown.

After all, not many preferred to travel with such dangers lurking in the darkness.

Meryl leaned heavily on her seat, the side of her head pressed to the glass of the window where the curtains inside were half-drawn. Silence had reigned a long time ago, when Milly had once again climbed out front to join Wolfwood as company. She had left Vash and herself skulking in the dimness of the carriage.

They were on a particularly rough stretch of road, riddled with rocks and small, deep pools filled with murky water, masking the hole until it was too late and a wheel sunk into the ground. The whole carriage seemed to bounce up and down, side to side, creaking and rattling. She expected it to fall apart at any moment, and found herself wondering where Wolfwood had gotten it. It was anything but luxury. Somewhere along the way, the seats had become very hard and uncomfortable, and

Meryl was switching her position every few minutes. But she wasn't just uncomfortable because of her surroundings.

She would nervous. It was a small, unpleasant tickle in the pit of her stomach, slowly working its way up to grasp her insides like a clawed hand, gripping firmly. Refusing to let go. And then it squeezed, causing her the most unease she had felt in a long while. It was drawn out, something she found she couldn't voice. She had to keep it to herself, and that only made her feel worse.

Shifting again, she crossed her arms over her chest, violet-grey eyes dark and stormy as they reflected the turbulence of the sky outside.

Impatiently, she watched as the county hills rolled by, revealing patches of deciduous trees, a dark green, and old cottage houses with rickety fences surrounding them. Scattered herds of matted and muddy sheep seemed to wander aimlessly within their confines, trapped in a deserted land. Meryl felt a shiver run up her spine, and she had to avert her eyes from the sight. The land around her was dying, hopelessly pleading for something to save it but not receiving anything close to a reply in return.

_Unless we help,_ she reminded herself. _It should start with us, and once we find the cure we can make a difference…_

After all, who wanted to live in a lonely cottage in the midst of a field where no one could hear their cries for help when the vampires finally came?

Swallowing somewhat thickly, Meryl released a deep breath through her nose, suddenly feeling quite ill. Slowly, she settled herself deep into the cushioned bench, eyes fixed on the seat opposite her.

But it wasn't enough.

She lifted a pale hand to pull the drapes closed on the window, shielding her eyes from the deadened view of the world around her.

For a moment, she let herself drift into the darkness, closing her eyes slightly and ignoring the world around her. Ignoring the bumps that jostled her in her place, ignoring the cold air within the carriage, ignoring the muffled sounds of Milly and Wolfwood speaking up ahead, ignoring the steady presence of Vash beside her, silent and strong.

She couldn't.

With a barely audible sigh, she cracked open her eyes and let them drift over to the tall blonde man. She figured he could have very well been dead if not for the fact that his eyes were open, staring out the window on his side. She could just barely see the dim light from outside touching the tips of his eyelashes. His face was in shadows, his blonde hair messed up and falling every which way, lips pulled firm in a straight line. Chin strong and jaw set tight.

Meryl admired him for a moment before noticing something else.

Set firmly upon his right knee, the one closest to her, rested his hand, pale skin shining brightly in the darkness. One finger, his index, tapped away at a steady beat and rhythm, silent yet deafening in the heavy air within the carriage. The only sign betraying his anxiety: a finger tapping impatiently upon his knee.

She watched this action a moment, face turned forward but gazing at him from the corner of her eyes. He blinked several times, swallowed twice, straightened his back once, and that finger just kept on tapping. And once again, Meryl was struck by the picture of humanity before her, looking anything but a steadfast vampire.

He resembled a young man trying to mask his trembling unease.

Then, with careful precision, she straightened her own back, took a deep breath, and slowly slid her left hand—trembling slightly—over to cover his. Immediately, the tapping halted, and they were left with a moment where no one did anything. They froze. The touch was light, but she could feel an unfamiliar jolt with the contact, and was startled to find his skin was warm. _The oddest thing…_ But she kept firm, licking her lips in the barest of nervous actions, and kept her face forward even as Vash seemed shocked and turned his own to stare at her.

She could feel his light green eyes trained on her, searching for something, but kept her emotions hidden. No, no, she wouldn't back down now with an apology.

Reassuringly, she let her cool fingers grasp his in a warm squeeze.

Her eyes were focused forward, but she felt when Vash seemed to relax in his seat, letting his shoulders fall and shifting his hand under hers and entwining his fingers gently with her own. And they sat like that, engulfed in silence, holding hands and drawing strength and warmth from each other, even as it began to rain outside.

--

Several hours later, after numerous stops to pull the carriage from sunken potholes, they came upon the smallest of towns as the forest of shrubs and bushes thinned into rolling fields. Fog hung thick and heavy in the air, roving across the fields like some great foreboding force. So dense it got that the four companions could hardly see past the small gathering of houses and shops into the surrounding farmland. White sheep roamed aimlessly in within the fenced land, grazing as the town seemed to ignore them.

It wasn't a welcoming sight, but the light of day was beginning to wane and the mists were slowly progressing into the area, gathering to form a white cloud hovering off the dank earth. Wolfwood knew if they were to continue on they'd either run across a hostile group of blood-suckers or stray from the corroding roads.

With Milly by his side, the priest turned the horses from the soggy road and into the cluster of small buildings.

"We'll be stayin' here the night," he told Milly, leaning over to speak in hushed tones. Almost as if afraid of wakening something that had best be left asleep.

The tall woman's blue eyes seemed darker without light to brighten them. She stared at him. "I suppose the horses will need some time to rest, right Mr. Priest?" she replied, eyes wandering the narrow streets, the only sound the horses' hooves upon the cracked and broken stones beneath them. There wasn't a soul in sight.

"I'm not worried about the horses…" he muttered to himself, an involuntary shiver running up his spine. _Trust Milly to worry about the horses… _he thought, inwardly amused.

Milly frowned. "I wonder where everyone is? By the looks of this place it could be abandoned!"

Wolfwood's dark eyes scanned the streets, feeble tendrils of fog curling around the horses' legs. "Inside, I guess. Dusk isn't a time to be outside and by the looks of things these people have found that out."

She looked at him, troubled. "Vampires?"

"I wouldn't doubt it," was the answer, doing nothing to ease Milly's nerves. They had become wound tight somewhere along the way, her easy demeanor letting up as the day had stretched on.

They continued through the narrow streets until Milly spotted the sign of an inn hanging above its door. It squeaked, swinging in a nonexistent breeze. Wolfwood halted the carriage outside the front, pulling the reins back. The horses neighed slightly in protest, clopping around noisily for a moment as if threatened or alarmed. He had to climb down from his perch up front in order to calm them, running a hand slowly down their necks and noses.

Vash and Meryl exited the carriage and together with Milly, decided to enter the inn while Wolfwood stayed behind with the two nervous horses and their carriage.

Wolfwood glanced up at the sign hanging above the entranceway to the inn, worn and faded with age. _The Prancing Pony._ It seemed harmless enough.

He watched in silence as the three entered the inn, letting out a stream of warm air and golden light as well as loud noise.

Vash was in the lead as they entered the inn, Milly and Meryl close behind. He knew for a fact that Meryl would much have preferred to continue on their way towards Purebrood, but he knew there was only less than a half-day's journey left ahead of them. Wolfwood, he knew, agreed with him. It was much too dangerous to be traveling at night.

He was relieved they didn't attract too much attention as they wound through the rowdy pub towards the front desk. Men and women alike were prancing about like fools in tune to a fiddle somewhere off in a corner, spilling liquor on themselves and each other. Only a few dark stares found them, for the others were too drunk to care about a few strangers in town.

It was warm inside, the air filled with cigarette smoke. The feel was welcoming to the coolness of the air outside.

The three found the innkeeper without much difficultly, and it was Meryl who took the lead and folded her hands across the desk, waiting service.

The innkeeper, a fat old man with a crooked nose and thin wisps of white hair, turned to the three with a look of suspicion.

"What d'ye want?" he attempted a sort of glower at the three.

Meryl, getting straight to business, answered swiftly. "Two rooms, four beds. For one night."

He cocked an eyebrow at the small woman, and then sneered. "We don't give out rooms to strangers no more, go look somewhere else."

Vash butted in then, standing beside Meryl and towering over the innkeeper. "Please sir, all we need is two rooms for one night. We'll be gone in the morning," he begged, taking the innocent approach, trying to look harmless.

Meryl just barely concealed a roll of her eyes.

The innkeeper didn't seem convinced. "What's your business in town, eh?" he demanded, leaning forward to eye the three.

The petite woman opened her mouth to reply when she was cut off abruptly by Vash. "We're heading north to visit my wife's family with her sister and my brother," was the swift reply, and Meryl just barely contained choked gasp. She just managed to wipe her face clear of an incredulous expression before the innkeeper's eyes settled firmly on her.

"She your wife?" he prodded, sneering.

Meryl opened her mouth to deny the inquiry, but once again was interrupted.

"Yes, sir. We married just last week, and we're heading to see her family. Her mother was too sick to come to the wedding, you see—" Vash's words ended abruptly as the small woman beside him planted a well aimed elbow into his side. He just managed to keep a look of pain from reaching his face.

Meryl cleared her face into a cool smile for the sake of the innkeeper, unaware of Milly watching the entire scene with interest.

"Now that you have our life story, sir, we'd like two rooms for the night," Meryl griped, eyes narrowing. The innkeeper held her gaze, glaring something fierce. She scowled, and the old man scowled right back. No doubt the two could have gone on forever if Vash hadn't stepped in again.

Nudging the fiery woman aside slightly, he smiled unguardedly at the man. "Sorry, sir, she's a bit tired from the ride. Sitting still for hours seems to put her in a bit of bad mood, if you know what I'm saying," he said, attempting to make amends with the man.

Nodding slightly, the old innkeeper cast a sly glance at Vash. "Aye, but nothing a bit of quality time won't cure, eh?" he grinned, revealing a row of yellow, crooked teeth.

Milly noticed that Meryl looked particularly horrified by this remark, if not embarrassed. But she didn't say anything, perhaps noticing Vash was well on his way to getting them two rooms.

Vash laughed loudly, "Right! I'm afraid we haven't spent much time together today." He didn't miss the death glare emanating from Meryl and directed at him, however.

"Traveling be like that, isn't it? Tell me, where'd ye come from?"

The blonde seemed slightly stumped by that question, but regained himself quickly. "Ah, Dover, actually. Right by the coast. We bought a house not far from the ocean, but haven't had to time to get used to the place yet!" he answered smartly, letting the innkeeper fall into his tale of lies. It wouldn't hurt any not to tell the truth, anyway.

Meryl, however, had to turn away as the meaningless conversation between the two men continued, crossing her arms and fixing Milly with a raised eyebrow. The taller woman merely smiled, secretly, as if she knew something Meryl did not. That didn't improve the petite woman's mood.

"I've been there once, a few years back. Nice place it is," the innkeeper recalled. "But here's an awful long way from Dover, if I do say! Where ye headed, then? Not too far, I hope?"

This time Vash was ready with an answer. "Cambridge. It shouldn't take more than a half a day or so to get there by carriage," he replied. Now if only he could get this pesky innkeeper to rent them two rooms!

The innkeeper was shaking his head, though, which caught Vash's attention.

"Carriage did ye say?" the old man queried.

"Yeah, with horses," the half-blood replied, attempting to seem as friendly as possible. Maybe he could even get a discount…

"Nay! Ye won't be able to take a carriage anywhere up north. The whole road system's been flooded over with the spring rains. They're nothing but mud and holes. You won't make it five minutes from town before you're stuck! It's amazing you even made it this far." The innkeeper leaned forward with a sagely nod. "Best leave the carriage and go by horseback."

Even Milly seemed slightly surprised by this news, and she and Meryl exchanged a quick glance, brows raised.

And then the old innkeeper, who was decidedly more pleasant than at first glance, continued on. "Aye, ye might be able to trade the carriage in for a couple saddles, proper reins and a few saddlebags if you be lucky. Old Moe owns a shop just across from here. You might want to stop in early next morning," he consoled, once again nodding as if to confirm his own words.

Meryl decided this was the time for her to step back in, as she figured Vash had wasted enough time trying to gain the innkeepers trust. She could have very well been ready to jump in between clean sheets and settle her head upon a soft pillow by now. But of course, Vash had to fool around.

Trying her best not to shove her way back into the conversation with too much force, Meryl planted herself firmly next to Vash. "Well, thank you very much for you're helpful information, sir, but we'd really like two rooms about now. Do you have any available?" she prompted curtly.

The old innkeeper couldn't suppress his grin, and sent another sly glance at Vash. "Can't wait to hop in the sack, eh?"

Meryl figured he was lucky Milly was there to restrain her; otherwise he wouldn't have that all-knowing smirk adorning that grisly old face of his!

Vash was laughing, a high pitch noise that only seemed to aggravate Meryl further.

Stopping his teasing, the innkeeper finally decided the three were deemed worthy of one of his inn's rooms. "Not to worry, we happen to have two available rooms. Now, did ye say three beds, or four beds?" he inquired.

"Three," Vash cut in before Meryl could say anything.

Nodding, the innkeeper produced two keys. "Good, good. That'll be twelve shillings, then."

Again, before anything else could be said, Vash had twelve shillings on the counter. The innkeeper gathered up the coins and handed over the two keys.

"One night only. You're all to be vacated by seven sharp," he instructed, then almost as an after thought, added, "And ye can get rid o' that carriage out back by the stables. Feel free to tether your horses up for the night."

Vash nodded his thanks with a smile before turning, snatching up Meryl's hand before she could protest, and leading the way from the inn. Once they were outside, however, unheard by curious ears, Meryl whirled on Vash, a scowl seemingly permanently etched on her pale face.

"What was _that_?!" she shrieked as they neared Wolfwood, who stood idly by the horses.

Milly trailed behind, watching the two with a bemused smile. They made their way around to the back of the carriage to unload their few possessions, bickering the whole way. Their words faded somewhat, but Meryl's voice could still be heard, shrill, no doubt telling off Vash for his performance back in the inn.

She turned to Wolfwood with a smile. He was smoking a cigarette, one hand holding tight to the girdle on one of the horses.

"What's that about?" he asked, although he wondered if he really wanted to know.

Smiling, Milly replied. "Oh, nothing really. Vash just told the innkeeper that Sempai was his wife," she declared lightly.

The priest couldn't help but grin. "Did he really?"

"Oh yes, and Sempai doesn't seem too happy about it, either. Although I don't know why. I think they'd be a perfect couple, don't you think so Mr. Wolfwood?" She fixed him with an expectant look, a smile tugging at her lips.

He listened briefly as a pained howl penetrated the still air. That would have been Vash…

"Maybe…" he answered evasively.

He had to wonder, though.

--

Night had come swift. No longer than a half hour after the four companions had checked into the small inn did the darkness truly fall. It had stopped raining for the day, and the air was left thick with water, fog rolling around the streets of the small town like some haunting ghosts. Lingering raindrops fell from the roof of the building, trailing down windows and dripping down gutters. The only place outside that was dry was the porch, where the inn's roof protruded slightly, providing a bit of shelter where a lone bench sat.

Meryl stood outside, her long cloak covering her state of undress. She only wore her long nightshirt underneath, and hadn't bothered to pull on her boots. She wanted to feel the worn grain of the wood on the soles of her feet.

She'd left Milly inside, snoring happily within the depths of slumber. They'd sorted out the rooms, and Milly and herself had taken the single bed. Vash and Wolfwood had vehemently refused to share, saying it just wasn't something men could do. She'd had a laugh out of that.

So they'd settled down in the small rooms, Vash and Wolfwood, heading downstairs to mingle with the locals. But knowing Wolfwood that meant drinking. Of course, she didn't drink, and was much too tired anyway. Instead, Milly and herself lay side by side for a while, simply talking. Chatting about nothing in particular. They hadn't done that for a while, and Meryl had felt her mood lighten, an invisible weight lifting from her shoulders.

But after her friend had fallen asleep and commenced with her snoring, Meryl had continued to lay awake. She'd stared at the dark ceiling; unable to fall into that slumber she wanted so much. So she'd slipped from the protective bed sheets and instead donned her cloak. Before she left the room, she'd treaded into the washroom, chancing a glance at the puncture wounds in her neck. It was getting harder to look at them every day now. They frightened her. And when she had examined them in the dim light, she'd paled several shades to a pasty white.

The holes had obviously started their work. Thin, spindly veins of bluish-purple were creeping up her neck away from the bite, the skin around them a shade lighter than her own. The holes themselves were red, the colour of her blood, not healing. Knives had done his work well. At this rate, Meryl had realized her time was running out fast. She could feel it, too. Her body was weakening, preparing itself for a complete shut-down of all systems. Readying her for death and the afterlife of horrors she would face.

No more than a day or two now…

Disturbed, the petite woman had fled the room on silent feet, making her way swiftly down the hallway and down the creaky staircase. Her feet had only hit two loose boards, not enough to wake anyone. At least she hoped. At this time, her own company was of a great comfort, when she could retreat into her mind and think things over. She could wonder how everything was going to turn out.

Meryl had left the inn without much though, intent on getting fresh air into her lungs. The door to the _Prancing Pony_ had been left unlocked, but a large cross hung above the entranceway, intending to protect it's occupants from the monsters lurking in the darkness.

Meryl knew crosses didn't work as they myths told them to. Her only solace as she had stepped out into the night air was her derringers and stakes, carefully hidden under the folds of her cloak.

Now, there she was, standing on the open porch, unused bench behind her, darkness of night before her. The shadows were fleeting, warned off by a lone lantern off to the side of the inn, hanging from the roof. It was still in the air, much like the fog. Everything was motionless.

She wondered what lay before them, herself, Milly, Vash and Wolfwood. What would happen to them when they finally reached Purebrood? Had Nicholas thought of a plan? Did Vash have a vague idea where the serum she so craved actually was? She realized she hadn't given it much thought. Under different circumstances, Milly, herself and Nicholas would have taken the time to develop a plan or some idea as to how they would get in and out of the castle safely. They'd rushed into this without much of a thought, without an idea as to what they were supposed to do once they got there.

_Vash better know how to get into that castle without being seen…_ she told herself, _…or I'm going to whop him into next Tuesday…_

She would have to find the time to question him about the castle. Secret entrances. A layout. Where the serum was. Where Knives's room lay. They'd have to avoid some places and stick to the shadows. None of the four of them were ready to fight off the legion of bloodsuckers that lived there, least of all Vash and herself. They were both weak and frail, on the thin edge where life and death met.

Sighing, Meryl trailed her eyes down the street.

Not a soul in sight. That was a relief. She almost found herself wishing they could stay a bit longer. She liked the company of large crowds, and the people who lived in this small town seemed to like the company of each other, too.

_Safety in numbers,_ she reminded herself. And they certainly did a good job of it. Meryl was quite sure the whole town had showed up to drink themselves senseless, and they'd stayed roaring drunk well into the night until they'd all started passing out. Then, she figured, they'd all holed up in this one inn, filling all the rooms, and emerged only when daybreak came. Plus strenuous hangovers.

The petite woman smiled at that, caught up in her thoughts. Maybe too caught up in her thoughts.

So distracted she was that she didn't realize someone had crept up behind her until a hand fell onto her shoulder.

Jolted from her reverie, her hand immediately digging under the folds of her cloak and she whirled around to face her unexpected visitor.

A large, relieved breath escaped her lungs when she realized who it was, and her grip fell from a stake she had managed to wrap her fingers around.

"Vash??" she questioned, glaring at him.

The culprit in question had backed off slightly, a look of alarm on his face, hands held up protectively before him. He nodded meekly in response.

Shoulders sagging, she turned from the tall blonde and stared resolutely back at the street. "What are you doing out here?" she all but demanded, heart still racing in her chest. _Damn…what a scare. I'm loosing my edge…_

After a moment, Vash stepped up beside her, standing to her right. "I could ask you the same thing."

She snorted, ignoring his comment. "Don't sneak up on me like that."

"I thought you heard me," he defended himself.

"I didn't," she stated simply, and they fell into silence.

Staring ahead, Meryl crossed her arms, pulling the safety of her cloak tighter around her body. Truth be told, her feet were getting cold. And she could feel fatigue creeping up on her, bidding her to return to bed and sleep. She'd love to sleep, but knew she probably couldn't. There was too much on her mind, too much going on around her.

Shifting the weight on her feet slightly, she broke the silence. "I don't think I can do this much longer," she said with a sigh, before the words had fully formed in her mind. They came unbidden to her lips, and she cursed herself slightly for saying such a stupid thing. She wished she could take it back.

"Do what?"

Too late, of course. Vash was looking at her now, green eyes focused on her face. She remained staring forward, defeated. Why not spill her deepest concerns to him, anyway? Did it matter that he was a half-blooded vampire?

_No…_

"Keep going…keep walking. Keep looking. It's getting too tiring," she answered, voice softer than it had been before.

There was silence, and then…"You shouldn't say that."

She gave a short sigh. "I know," she replied forlornly.

"Milly's relying on you," he went on.

"We've been friends for so long…" Meryl recalled wistfully, somewhat to herself.

"And we'll find it," Vash reassured her.

The petite woman turned to him, eyes narrowed. "How can you be so optimistic?"

Vash smiled disarmingly, a glint in his eyes. "Well…it starts with getting enough sleep so I'm no so grumpy all the time," he started, and Meryl's eyebrows shot up as she realized he was referring to her.

"I am not!"

Ignoring her, he continued. "_And_ I prefer smiling a lot, so I don't get those ugly wrinkles around my mouth…Oh, and it helps to relax, because otherwise, you're as stiff as a board and have a state of mind just as brittle." He smiled again as if to prove his innocence.

Meryl glared hotly up at him, hands planted firmly on her hips. "I should hit you for that," she warned with a scowl.

Vash managed to look shocked and offended. "Why? You asked me and I told you!" He complained loudly, turning his face away.

Realizing he meant well, Meryl couldn't help but let a smile tug on her lips at his antics. Good lord, the man was odd!

Vash grinned as he caught sight of her smile. "There you go!" he exclaimed, and reached for her hand, patting it as though she was some sort of dog. "Now all you need to do is relax a bit and go back upstairs to your room."

And with that, he tugged firmly on her hand and led her back into the relative safety of the inn. Meryl allowed herself to be pulled back up the stairs, Vash talking the whole time. And she did so with a smile on her face.

--

Due to lack of creativeness on my part, I stole the inn's name from J. R. R. Tolkien's _The Lord of the Rings_. It's not mine, so don't sue!

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	30. Donkey in the Street

**No Want, No Hunger, No Shame**

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**Chapter 29**

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Morning had come quickly, the grey skies brightening as silent waves of mist rolled in through the pastures. The town woke quietly, people slipping from the inn huddled in cloaks and droopy-eyed from sleep. They trudged back home, glad for the incoming day.

Meryl was the first to wake, shivering through the thin blankets upon the bed. The room was cool, so she slipped into her clothes quickly, pulling the worn fabric of her coat closer to her body. She slipped from the room, careful not to wake Milly, who seemed oblivious to the cold. Meryl had rummaged about the room and found an extra quilt anyway, and had draped the thin wool over the sleeping woman before she left. She never recalled her house feeling this cold, but then again, she usually left a fire to burn out in the hearth in her bedroom.

The petite woman made her way downstairs with the rest of the townspeople who had huddled up in the inn for the night. At the bar, breakfast was in full swing. The rowdy bunch from the night before seemed to have abruptly tamed, and were now eating fried eggs from their plates while conversing lowly around tables.

She followed her nose to the front and ordered herself a single coffee. A plump woman was serving out food, taking money and stacking plates and dishes. She nodded silently to Meryl and she dug several coins from her pockets.

Then, ignoring the curious looks from strangers, for she was a new face in town, she found an unoccupied table off to the side. It was best not to attract too much attention in such a small town. Trouble was not something she would welcome.

Her coffee was delivered black, and she didn't bother to add anything to it. What she needed was a quick boost of energy that would wake her sleeping body and jolt her into the day. The dark liquid was piping hot, so she was forced to sip lightly at it, blowing lightly to cool it. The warmth from the mug seeped into her fingers and hands, loosening her joints.

Meryl wasn't quite sure how long she sat and sipped at the bitter drink, but her reverie was interrupted as a full plate of steaming eggs and sausage was pushed under her nose.

Frowning, she was about to protest, saying she hadn't ordered any food, when someone took a seat opposite her.

It was Vash.

Meryl frowned at the eggs, then up at the half-blood. He'd already picked up his fork and was in the middle of shovelling egg into his mouth when he noticed her bemused expression.

"What?" he lowered his fork, "Don't tell me you're not hungry! After all that trouble I went through getting this for you!" he exclaimed, looking irritated.

His apparent distress didn't seem to affect Meryl, and she fixed him with a satirical stare.

Ignoring it, Vash shrugged. "Ah, well, more for me." And with that, he reached over and pulled her plate towards him.

The petite woman immediately changed her mind, and smacked his hand away, taking her plate back. Snatching up a fork, she glared at him. "You're awfully chipper this morning. Not to mention hungry."

The blonde merely shook his head, suddenly looking grim. "I've got to keep my strength up somehow."

Meryl knew exactly what he meant, and stabbed into the eggs with her fork with a reignited vengeance. "I suppose," she murmured, and lifted the fork to her lips. The eggs were slightly runny, but she couldn't expect anything less from such an establishment. _Her _eggs, however, were something to be revered. She noticed, however, that Vash didn't seem the mind the poor quality of the food whatsoever and she had to stifle the smile that threatened to curl on her lips.

"Where's Nicholas run off to?" she asked to break the silence between them.

"Outside, smoking. He's been acting odd morning," the blonde replied, lowering his coffee. He fixed Meryl with a quizzical stare. "Is he always like that?"

Meryl quirked an eyebrow at him. "Nicholas? Like what?" she asked, but of course she knew what he was talking about.

"So...so..." Vash struggled to find the words.

"Jumpy? Brooding? Critical?" Meryl supplied him with a list of words that she checked off from a mental list in her head. "Irritating? Irrational? Confusing? Secretive—"

Vash cut in suddenly. "Secretive, I was thinking. He's been throwing glances over his shoulder all morning. I think he knows something we don't," he said, falling into thought.

Nodding Meryl agreed. "That man always knows something we don't. I've learned to live with it. He'll tell all in time, even if it's years from now."

The blonde, however, merely gave her a perplexed look.

--

It wasn't long before both Milly and Wolfwood joined Vash and Meryl at the small table, and still not a great deal of time after that the four exited the inn and made their way around to the stables where the horses were being kept.

They planned on taking the innkeeper's advice and Vash and Wolfwood were to trade the carriage for two horses. They took both horses, tethering them securely to the carriage before heading off to see this "Moe."

"We'll be back within an hour," Wolfwood announced, unloading the last of the group's cargo onto the ground by the inn's front door. The four had packed light, and there was little more than three bags filled with clothes and supplies and two very large guns. Milly's stun gun and Wolfwood's cross punisher, once again wrapped securely in a faded cloth.

The priest observed the quiet streets a moment before turning to the petite woman. "Keep on the lookout, Meryl. Something isn't right about this town."

She rolled her eyes, feeling irritable. Time was valuable, and they were wasting it. "Besides the fact that no one seems to live in their own houses, you mean? Or the absence of cattle in the fields, or this damn mist that won't seem to lift??"

Wolfwood rolled his eyes right back. "You're getting riled up again, shorty."

"Damn right I am!" she burst, narrowing her eyes at the priest. "You know something Nick. Tell me."

Milly, alarmed by her partner's sudden change in mood, grabbed hold of her arm firmly. "Sempai!"

The hunter and the priest glared at each other.

"Hey! Both of you calm down!" Vash exclaimed, and the three's attention turned to him. "This isn't the time to be fighting!" he amended, wilting slightly under their eyes.

Meryl looked ready to start on him next, but abruptly, she seemed to deflate. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just…" she looked at Wolfwood and shrugged helplessly.

He smiled lopsidedly and hopped up onto the carriage. "I know. Keep an eye out. I have a bad feeling about today," he repeated as Vash pulled himself up beside him.

"Don't you always?" Meryl retorted with a smile.

"Shut up."

--

The morning hours ticked by, and time found the two women sitting upon the steps leading to the inn. They had nowhere else to go. Neither felt the need to go exploring a strange town when all they really wanted was to be on their way. And waiting for the two men to return was putting Meryl in a bad mood. She felt tired and her exhaustion put her on edge.

Beside Meryl, Milly had her beloved stun gun positioned on her lap, where she had set about polishing it absently with her sleeve, when she spoke.

"I wish you would stop picking fights with Mr. Priest."

Meryl shot her friend an exasperated look. "I'm not picking fights with him. He's just so…infuriating," she justified herself, but failed miserably.

Both of them, however, knew it was true.

"You know him," Milly replied with a wistful smile.

Meryl couldn't help but find herself infected with the other woman's cheerfulness. "We all know him," she said dryly. "He's a priest, yet he smokes, curses and carries around a gun that's bigger than me."

Milly laughed, smiling at her friend. "You two are like siblings," she declared, and the way she said it, Meryl was almost inclined to think it was true. "I remember my sisters used to fight like that all the time when I was little."

The smaller woman considered the word with distaste. "Siblings?"

Milly merely nodded, smiling, and Meryl shook her head in defeat. They both fell into silence, watching the deserted streets for signs of any trouble. Everything was silent save for the crowd still inside the inn. Apparently, the town was already on with another party of sorts, despite it being close to lunch.

A sudden, loud shot cut the silence, echoing through the thick fog that seemed to have settled over the town.

Meryl cocked her head, ears perking.

"Did you hear that?" she asked Milly, who stared back at her with wide eyes.

"It sounded like…"

Again, the town's silence was shattered.

"Guns!" Meryl exclaimed.

The two women shot up from the porch and quickly began to gather the bags.

Milly slung her stung gun over her shoulder, looking worriedly into the distance. "I hope everything's alright…"

"With a half-blooded vampire and a corrupt priest?" Meryl gave her friend an incredulous look, walking out into the middle of the narrow road. It was silent once more. Her shoes crunched loudly in the gravel, and she found the sound far too loud for her ears.

The two women stood tensed and ready for trouble, but nothing seemed to be amiss. The thick fog rolling about them aimlessly. They were nearly led to believe that their imaginations had been playing tricks on them…

But, then, the oddest thing happened.

From around the far corner the two men had disappeared around no more than a half hour before, an animal came racing. Galloping clumsily, it emitted a horrible sound that resembled a horse's neigh but felt short on account it was nasal and high-pitched.

It was a donkey, ears pressed back against its head with its reins flapping wildly behind.

A bleating donkey, running astray around the town's streets.

Then, moments later, another figure appeared around the corner. The familiar, tall, gangly form of Vash was almost welcome, if he hadn't been running as though the devil himself was on his tail.

_A donkey…and Vash, _Meryl said mentally, dumbfounded.

She then watched as Wolfwood rounded the corner, riding atop a large, black stallion. At his side was one of the horses from the carriage, and just behind was the other, its head tossing and hooves clapping upon the gravel in alarm. The sound of gunshots filled the air, emitting from around the corner, but she didn't wait to see who was after the two men.

Hauling her bag with her, she ran forward to block the stray donkey's path, intent on not allowing it to escape. Unfortunately, she had the faintest idea what had occurred in the time the two men had left their company, and was led to believe the animal was needed dearly.

Fortunately, her sudden movement seemed to have deterred the animal from its path and with its means of escape blocked the donkey slowed to an abrupt stop before Meryl and promptly flopped back onto its haunches. From its mouth came a whining bleat and its ears flopped forward as though it was at a loss.

Disregarding the extreme oddness of the situation, she approached the animal cautiously before swiftly grabbing hold of the loose reins before it could muster the courage to run off again.

She looked up just in time to see Vash running towards her, full speed with a look of such absurdity it took all Meryl's strength not to break out laughing. Only several yards behind him now, Wolfwood and his magnificent stallion were fleeing from a particularly hostile looking group of townsmen toting guns and torches.

_Oh God…_ Meryl thought as the graveness of their situation seemed to hit her with full force.

She straightened suddenly, looking around with wide eyes. Milly, she noticed, had mounted her stun gun atop her shoulder and looked ready to draw blood. The occupants of the inn had long since piled out upon the porch, watching the scene with growing interest. Meryl noted with some alarm that some men seemed to have drawn there guns.

She had no doubt who they would use them on.

And then, Vash was at her side, huffing and puffing with exertion.

Without a second thought, she tossed the donkey's reins at him.

"Quick, get on!" she urged him, and glanced up just in time to see Wolfwood racing up to them, pulling in his reins and slowing to a stop. The two carriage horses, looking lost, clopped up beside him, flicking their tails.

"We've outstayed our welcome!" the priest shouted. "Grab a horse!"

Milly followed his advice quickly, approaching one of the two horses left and running a comforting hand along its nose before swiftly tying her luggage to the saddle. She heaved Wolfwood's cross up to him, which he took gratefully, and mounted her horse quickly and with ease.

Meryl did likewise, mindful of the fact that she had never had much experience with horses. Wolfwood and his stallion seemed equally eager to be off, and as soon as she was in her saddle he urged them to move, taking off down the street with Milly close behind him.

Meryl's gaze snapped back to Vash and the donkey. "What are you waiting for??" she demanded as she noticed neither had moved.

Both were looking up at her with wide eyes, the donkey's beseeching and Vash's panicked.

"Look at him!" the blonde exclaimed. "He won't get up!"

Meryl noticed the angry crowd was gaining, and felt her own temper rise. Snatching the reins from the half-blood, she gave them one swift yank, and the animal was on its feet in seconds. It danced about nervously, clearing sensing the situation was something it didn't want to be involved it.

"Get on!" Meryl all but shrieked, and Vash did so, clumsily. He looked as out of place on a donkey as he would be in the Caribbean. Disregarding that, she gave the animal a sharp slap on it's behind before urging her own horse forward.

The donkey raced forward in a spastic romping gait, noticing all too late that there were angry villagers on all sides, blocking escape.

Muttering a curse under her breath and watching at both the clumsy human and donkey raced onwards, she swiftly pulled a derringer from under her cloak. The cool metal felt comforting in her hand. She gripped tight to the reins, urging her horse down the street while raising the small gun to the sky.

She pulled the trigger and the whole town seemed to drop to their knees, shouts and screams and yells of alarm piercing through the street.

Vash broke through the barrier of humans and was quickly followed by Meryl. As the wind whipped about her, she twisted her torso around and pulled the trigger again, aiming at the angry mob toting torches.

It was her last warning before she fled the town, breaking out onto clear pastures with Vash's donkey just slightly ahead of her (which was an amazing feat considering its size).

--

"What was that??" Meryl demanded some long minutes later as she reined her horse in beside Wolfwood's stallion. They had reached the top of a grassy hill a good distance from town, and Milly was standing in the tall, wet grass fixing the saddlebags on her mare.

Vash and his donkey were have a difference of opinion several feet away, the sturdy animal trotting about at the blonde attempted to dismount.

Wolfwood carefully slid off his horse, running a hand along its mane, before answering Meryl, whose eyes were narrowed dangerously.

"That, Meryl, was a disagreement caused by bad bargaining, and no fault of mine, either!" he told her. "You have the broomhead to thank for that."

She dismounted, jaw clenched tight. If Wolfwood had been right about one thing, it was that this day wasn't turning out to be a good one.

Just then, there was a loud "_oomph!" _and both Wolfwood and Meryl turned to see Vash's donkey sniffing about the thick grass near where Vash had tumbled off its back a few feet away. Shaking her head, Meryl _hmphed_ loudly and stalked over to the half-blood and helped him up none-too-gently. Milly, meanwhile, caught hold of the unruly animal and led it towards her own steed.

Now, Meryl faced both men, hands planted firmly upon her hips and a scowl upon her lips. "Care to elaborate? Anyone? I, for one, would like to know why we nearly had our heads shot off back there, and why the whole town was after us with pitchforks!"

The two men exchanged nearly guilty looks.

"Well…" Vash began hesitantly.

"We found Moe, as planned," Wolfwood continued. "But it turned out the guy was a stubborn old bugger who wanted more than just the carriage for a couple of horses. I tried to barter with him…"

Vash pretended to be studying the overcast sky, "You forgot to mention he had a gun taller than himself," he stated nonchalantly.

This statement did nothing to help Meryl's mood. She cocked her head at the two, "And…?" she drew the word out expectantly.

"As I said, he wanted more than the fair price." Wolfwood replied vaguely.

The petite woman made a noise of understanding. "Which somehow ended with the whole town armed against us with pitchforks," she stated dryly.

Just then, Milly entered the conversation, which was probably a blessing for the two men.

"Now sempai, the important thing is that no one was hurt. We're all fine, aren't we?" she chirped.

"Yes," Meryl agreed shortly, "But we almost weren't! And I'd like to know what idiocy almost got us all killed!"

Again, the two men in question exchanged a look, this time of defeat.

Wolfwood began to pat himself down, clearly looking for his cigarettes. "It turns out Moe was also an avid vampire hunter," he muttered, and pulled a single cigarette from his pocket. She wondered if he had known that bit of information all along, but when he spoke again her eyes narrowed. "He was much like yourself, Meryl. Mean as a bull."

Opening her mouth angrily to retort, she was cut off by the priest, who continued with the story.

"He was the kind that can simply smell a vampire, and when he got a whiff of Vash here…well, half the town was behind him before we knew what'd happened," he told her, lighting his cigarette and inhaling deeply. His bliss was short-lived, as Milly plucked the stick from his lips moments later and stomped it out on the soggy ground, all the while giving him a look that dared him to complain.

Meryl watched this with some satisfaction, but couldn't help but feel somewhat peeved. "And how did you end up with a stallion and a _donkey_?"

The two men shrugged. "We stole them," Wolfwood supplied.

"By that time the whole village was after us with guns, though," Vash added.

"And Vash happened to steal a donkey instead of a horse," the priest finished.

"Goodness!" Milly huffed, brow furrowed. "It's a miracle both of you got out alive!"

And to that, Meryl couldn't really find a suitable retort, so she nodded silently grudgingly in agreement. And, as there seemed nothing more was to be said on the matter, Wolfwood went back to preparing his midnight stallion and Milly to her mare. Both, it seemed, were attempting to strap their huge guns onto the saddlebags without causing the animal's discomfort.

Vash's donkey was meandering about the hill, and Meryl watched a moment as the blonde attempted to coax the animal to him again. It seemed he was utterly hopeless when it came to animals. She leaned her head gently against her own horse to hide her smile of amusement, which was gone quickly when Wolfwood dropped a pile of saddlebags on the ground to her left. She turned to stare at him.

"You've got to carry your clothes in something," he said as an answer to her unspoken question.

It wasn't long until they were organized once more, something they had lacked in their hasty departure from town. All four sat still astride their new companions, staring at the rolling landscape before them. Fog streaked the hills and only the tops of tall trees were visible in the distance.

"Where to from here?" Milly questioned lightly.

"North. I know the way." It was Vash who answered.

Meryl wetted her dry lips. "How long do you suppose it will take?"

The whole group knew what she was really asking. _How much longer do I have?_

"If we make good time, we should be there before nightfall," he told her solemnly.

Meryl's heart was thudding hollowly in her chest. Did she have that much time?

Milly, even, had to force a smile. "Well, then, lets get going!" she said, and urged her horse forward.

--

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder **


	31. Trusting in the Vampire

**No Want, No Hunger, No Shame**

**A/N: **Yes, I'm back! Sorry for the delay. Think of this as a late Christmas present! ;)

My apologies for any grammatical errors beforehand. It was late when I wrote it and it was late when I edited it.

**

* * *

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**Chapter 30**

They rode quickly, pushing the horses to their limits. Meryl's legs and behind soon cramped up from the constant jarring pace, but she grit her teeth and stared ahead where Vash (and his donkey) were leading the group. He insisted there was less than a day's ride to the castle _Purebrood_, but Meryl had to wonder how long it had been since he had been this way.

The group rode in near silence the entire day, only stopping briefly at noon and mid-afternoon for breaks. They all flopped to the damp grass and indulged themselves and their horses in food and water at these scarce times. Even then, everyone seemed much too preoccupied with eating to speak.

Meryl herself rode in a sort of half-daze. Sometime in the afternoon, she became aware of an irritating throb in her neck, under the flesh branded by the K. She also noticed that it seemed to be healing, which she couldn't take for a good sign because one look by Milly told her that the infection had spread and long, thin blue vines of death were winding around her neck like a noose.

Meryl was well acquainted with the side effects of vampire bites, having read book after book on the matter. It was something else to experience it, however.

The fog cover didn't break until late afternoon, and for the barest moment, they all could have sworn there was clear sight of the sun lowering over the hills. Seconds later, however, a cloud blocked their view. One of considerable size and gloominess.

Wolfwood then informed them, in a matter of fact tone, that it would rain that night.

They pushed on, through small thickets and forests, over the rounded hilltops and down through the muddy valleys. Vash's donkey seemed to be the most resilient of them all after the half-blood himself, and just as Meryl thought that she would fall from her saddle with exhaustion (but not before her horse collapsed under her), they rounded the top of one last hill and Vash gave a cry of triumph.

"That's it! There it is!" he shouted with a silly grin, his donkey plodding to a halt as he pointed out a spot on the horizon.

Meryl pulled her horse to a stop next to Vash and followed the line his finger made. Before them lay a barren field followed by a dark forest. Then, rising above both was a rocky outcropping she took to be a hill. Atop the hill was a shabby castle, its outline stark and harsh against the white sky.

"It's beautiful…" Milly breathed from beside Meryl.

Wolfwood snorted. "If you count that sight beautiful, I'd hate to see what you think is ugly," he told her sardonically.

Milly pointedly ignored the priest and turned to her partner. "Well, what do _you_ think, Sempai?"

As she fixed her eyes on the dark shape rising above the earth, Meryl felt an encumbering sense of dread engulf her very being. She heard Milly's question, but couldn't bring herself to tear her gaze from the castle. Her voice seemed to freeze in her throat. Her ears seemed to be filled with a sudden thundering rush. The tips of her fingers froze, small tendrils of ice worming into her veins and proceeding to travel up her bones.

Something flashed in the recesses of her mind. A memory?

A voice. Cold as ice.

_Death, hate…I hate you…_

"Sempai?"

Meryl's eyes snapped open, her whole body jerking. She realized her eyes had begun to close, but whether in sleep or something else, she didn't know.

Swallowed, she spoke, her voice cracking. "It's a place of death," she said with finality.

Milly's brow furrowed in thought, while Wolfwood remained silent.

Meryl realized that Vash was staring at her. Turning her head slowly, she levelled her gaze with his. There was something in his eyes…

"Let's go," he said suddenly. "We want to make the cover of the forest by night. The majority of the population inside the castle is pure-blooded, and they'll wake as soon as the sun is down. We don't want to be caught in the open." He urged the donkey forward.

They reached the thick woods in less time than Meryl would have thought, and dismounted from their horses (and donkey) to continue on foot. Vash insisted they make their way deep into the forest before setting up a makeshift camp.

The canopy of trees all but blocked the sky from view, but they found a small, round clearing with several large rocks and soft grass growing. From this spot, they noticed the sky was already darkening, but not from night.

"It'll be raining soon, I told you," Wolfwood reminded them all mildly as they tethered their horses (and donkey) to the surrounding trees. They made sure there was plenty of cover for the tired animals.

Milly was unpacking her saddlebags as Wolfwood surveyed the sight, lighting up a cigarette as he did so. Feeling unnaturally exhausted, Meryl flopped down beside a large rock protruding from the grass, but not after hauling her possessions off her horse. Sitting there, she noticed Vash staring around the small clearing with a far away expression.

_A place from his past? _she wondered silently to herself, and decided not to question him. She was sure being here was just as hard for him as it was for her.

Meryl noticed that Milly seemed to be the only one among them acting the least bit normal. Humming as she rummaged through her things, Milly set about pulling various jars and cooking supplies from her bags.

"Mr. Priest!" she chirped, smiling as Nicholas turned to her. "Put that cigarette out and please find me some wood. We'll need a fire if we're going to eat tonight!"

"It'll have to be a small one," Vash informed her wisely, settling himself down on the ground a few feet from Meryl.

"There'll be no trouble with that once it starts raining." He started for the edges of the clearing, gathering small sticks and dead wood as puffed resolutely on his cigarette.

In the end, the cigarette was used to light the fire, and Wolfwood assumed a look of dejection.

By the time the flames were high enough to cook on, Meryl could feel the odd raindrop fall through the thinned branches above them, occasionally hitting her on the nose. The three of them sat around the fire as Milly was hunched over, stirring two separate pots that sat on a makeshift grid over the flames. And, before long, she was ladling their supper into four small bowls and handing them out. The cheerful woman had something else in store for Meryl, however, and she poured the contents of the second pot into a large mug before making her way over to her friend.

Meryl looked up, spoon poised to scoop into her bowl. She eyed the mug suspiciously. She didn't know how much more of Milly's concoctions and cooking she could take.

"What's that?" she asked, lowering her bowl.

Milly held the drink out to Meryl, a stern look in her eyes.

"Here, have this, Sempai. It's a drink to delay the turning. The recipe is straight from a book by Jonathan Wright," she said to the unspoken question in Meryl's eyes.

The petite woman took the drink grudgingly, wrinkling her nose at the fumes that seemed to be emanating from the mug.

"Drink," Milly commanded with the slight show of hesitation from her friend.

Meryl noticed Wolfwood's eyes laughing at her over the fire while Vash looked on, curious. She gave them both a glare before tipping the mug up and draining it quickly. It was best to do that with all Milly's edible inventions.

Indeed, Meryl wasn't disappointed, and as the last of the drink slid down her throat, what she had been trying not to taste suddenly hit her full-force. She dropped the mug as if it were a hot coal and shot up from her place before the fire. Then, throwing herself into the surrounding bushes, she attempted to cough and gag whatever was left of the horrid drink out of her mouth and off her tongue.

She was barely aware of Vash and Wolfwood laughing behind her. The drink had caused a searing fire to settle in her stomach and spread up her throat and down into her abdomen.

Gasping for air, Meryl stumbled back to the campfire, clutching her throat. The K on her neck had started to sting painfully.

"What was that?" she demanded loudly of her friend. "It tasted like…like…"

"Garlic," Milly offered simply.

"G-garlic!" Meryl exclaimed in disbelief.

Wolfwood's laugher doubled, while Vash assumed a pained look.

The petite woman snatched up her nearby canteen and began gulping down the water within.

* * *

As the day stretched on, the rain grew steadily in volume. Fat drops fell from the sky, dripping off leaves and thumping loudly down into the foliage. It wasn't long before they're small fire had been extinguished into a pile of sizzling wood and ashes. The four, in turn, retreated under the forest's thick canopy once more, sitting side by side and shivering from the cold.

It was at this time that they finally seemed to recall why they had come all this way. The threat of Meryl's death was hanging heavily over them all.

Wolfwood first asked how they were going to get into the stone castle without detection.

All eyes turned to Vash as he confidently told them that he knew a way. Meryl, somehow, knew not to question him. She knew he had no wish to reveal his past as he had unwillingly to her. So, before she knew it they were winding along a path through the woods that only the half-blood seemed to know. They were headed for the castle on the hill.

Vash led them through the dampened forest for several minutes until it thinned abruptly and they were standing in the shadow of a large, vertical cliff. A great wall of cold stone. Small streams of rainwater trickled down the rocks, staining them black in their wake, and small misshapen plants sprouted in between cracks, drooping sullenly. When Meryl looked up, she was startled to see that they were nearly beneath the castle. It loomed over them from its perch high above, ominous

The letter engraved in her neck gave a pang, and she averted her eyes from the castle.

The half-blood had crept forward and was now running his hands along the sheer face of rock, feeling and searching.

"What are you doing, Mr. Vash?" Milly inquired, peering over his shoulder.

Wolfwood looked on. "He's looking for an entrance of some sort," he said absently.

Meryl gave him a sharp look and watched as his eyes seemed drawn up to the castle. She was about to ask him how he knew this when Vash shouted with triumph.

"Here it is! I nearly thought I'd forgotten where it was!"

Both Wolfwood and Meryl turned to look, as a section of the cliff seemed to swing inwards much like a door. The blonde stood to the side looking proud.

Milly eyed the door warily. "Is that a way up into the castle?" she asked hesitantly.

Vash nodded. "I used it when I was a child," he told them vaguely, unwilling to say more.

They stared at the entrance, a gaping black hole in the side of the cliff. Meryl could hardly believe they had gotten this far when only day ago she had been sitting in her house feeling as helpless as a newborn babe. They had come so far in so little time, and she wanted to keep it that way.

"Then we'll enter the castle tonight," she said suddenly, lips pursed and eyes narrowed as she glanced once more up at their destination.

"Tonight?" Milly repeated, surprised.

"We only just got here, shorty," Wolfwood reminded her. "Maybe we should have one night's good rest before taking on Knives and his court of vampires."

Meryl turned sharply, here eyes focusing on her friend. "I'm not willing to wait another day. By tomorrow, I probably won't have the will to stand, let alone fight vampires," she told them honestly.

Vash spoke next, coming to the petite woman's aid. "She has a point, you know. The quicker we act the better."

There was silence among the group until Wolfwood gave a heavy sigh. "We'll need a plan."

Vash smiled. "I already have one."

* * *

"So, what's this plan of yours, broomhead?" Wolfwood drawled lazily as they settled back into their camp, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep away the cold.

Meryl sat with her back against a large pine tree as Milly stood a few feet away with the horses. Vash was pacing before them, brow furrowed in concentration.

"As far as I know, the entrance I showed you is a secret. We'll have no trouble getting into the castle. It's avoiding everyone inside that we'll have a problem with," he told them.

"Do we know where the serum is?" Meryl asked pointedly.

Immediately, the blonde's pacing stopped. He looked at Meryl with an unreadable expression.

"I believe I know where he keeps it. You'll have to trust me." His eyes pleaded silently with her.

Biting her lip, Meryl nodded solemnly. She trusted him.

Relieved, Vash continued. "If we want to get in and out of the castle as quick as we can, I think only one or two of us should go. The rest should stay behind with the horses to ensure a quick—"

"Whoa, wait just a second here!" Wolfwood interrupted loudly. "What's all this crap about one or two of us going in? That's suicidal!"

Vash set his jaw, unwilling to stand down. "_Purebrood_ is crawling with vampires. They can smell a human a hundred yards away. The less of us in there, the better."

"But you're not human, Mr. Vash," Milly pointed out, looking concerned.

Nodding, he answered. "That's why I'll be one of the two going in. I'm the only one here who knows the layout of the castle, too."

Milly's brow creased in worry. "But that only leaves the option of one of us going…"

"I will," Wolfwood said immediately, but found he had a strong wall to crack before that could happen.

Milly stood, hands planted on her hips, chin tilted in superiority. "No, I'll go. Mr. Priest, we need someone to stay behind with Sempai."

"Hey!" Meryl protested. "I'm not defenceless!"

Wolfwood frowned, ignoring the small woman as she stood from her spot under the tree. "Vash needs someone with firepower," he protested.

Milly glared, a frightening sight. "No, _Sempai_ needs someone with firepower. I'll go with Vash and you will stay behind."

Vash attempted to jump in again, wincing slightly. "No one's getting left out! I—"

"You're not going in there if I have anything to do with it!"

"You don't have any say in the matter, Mr. Priest!"

No one seemed to have noticed the small vampire hunter as she listened tiredly to the argument, but with increasing annoyance. She had come to her own conclusion, the only viable and logical way to end the debate. It was very simple.

"I'll go."

Words stopped in midstream as Milly, Wolfwood and Vash turned to stare at her blankly.

"What?" Wolfwood asked, and Meryl could sense the wheels in his head turning as he searched for a reason to deny her.

"_I _will go," Meryl stated firmly, fists clenched tightly as she stared down all three of her companions.

She saw Milly was about to utter a protest and silenced her sharply.

"I won't have either of you risking your lives up there for my sake! Not when I can still do it myself."

Wolfwood lofted an eyebrow at her. "You won't make it out," he said bluntly, knowing it would rile her.

And, at any other time, Meryl would have spouted off a few obscenities and started a loud and tedious fight with the priest, but now she realized that he was just trying to protect her. Albeit in a somewhat odd sort of way.

She returned his look, unwilling to back down. "Better me than one of you," she told them all, daring them to protest. "If I stay here and you fail, I'm dead anyway. It won't be long before that demon's bite has infected my whole body with its poison and I'll be turned to the living dead. I'd rather die than have that happen," she told them all frankly, and her eyes fell on Vash. He stood silent, his thoughts eating away at him.

Their eyes met.

"What have I got to lose?" she asked.

**

* * *

**

**A/N: **Wow, I can't believe I've actually made it this far…(faints) This chapter was really hard for me to get out for one reason: Christmas. Does anyone know how difficult it is to write something so, well, _depressing_ when there are Christmas tunes blaring in the background? Not to mention I had to make time for all those relatives…gah:P Anyway, I hope you all liked this chapter. We're coming up on a scene that compelled me to write this whole mess of a story, lol. How crazy is that?

A huge Thank You to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I love all your comments, so keep them coming:)

Now, excuse me while I get started on the next few chapters. I've got a deadline, you know! ;)

**--Cayenne Pepper Powder**


	32. Step in the Dark

--

Chapter 31

--

Meryl was woken by Wolfwood at dawn. He looked as though he hadn't slept a wink the whole night, an observation she didn't doubt. Milly was rubbing sleep from her eyes as Meryl stumbled to her feet and stretched. She felt like Wolfwood looked, though she recalled falling asleep almost immediately and hadn't woken once during the night.

It was that dark and dreary time before dawn - the forest was a large dark cage closing in around them. They felt permanently damp despite being dry. Restlessly and in relative silence and whispers, they finished off the last of their food, an act that seemed significantly ominous to Meryl because she was questioning the probability of her and Vash making it out of the castle alive.

She had always proclaimed herself smart, but now she was questioning her sanity.

Just as light began to streak across the clouded sky above them, the four of them crept from the suffocating shelter of the trees and ventured to face the imposing visage of the cliff. The entrance was opened and painful task of goodbyes and well wishes began.

Milly latched onto Vash first, tears in her eyes.

"You have to promise to be careful, Mr. Vash!" her loud voice seemed to startle them out of the dream they'd been walking in.

Meryl caught sight of the half blood's own teary eyes before facing Wolfwood with a solemn look. They regarded each other a moment, a smile slowly appearing on the priest's scruffy face.

"What's so funny?" she demanded, somewhat indignantly.

"You just look so damn serious, shorty," he told her with a grin.

Trust Wolfwood to make light of the situation, Meryl thought.

"Well, don't you think that under the circumstances it's warranted, priest?"

He looked at her with a funny expression on his face. "_Actually, _I was thinking that under the circumstances you might try being a little more light-hearted. Acting like you're about to enter into the gates of Hell isn't going to help you one bit."

Meryl frowned deeply. "As I recall, Nicholas, you were telling me just the other day that if I did this I wouldn't make it out alive," she reminded him harshly.

Wolfwood, cool as always, merely shrugged. "My plans to dissuade you didn't work, so now I figure I might as well encourage you," he told her, a hint of a smile on his lips that told her he wasn't completely serious.

Meryl wanted to say something smart back, snap out a retort that her irritable mood matched, but she closed her mouth and pursed her lips. She let his words sink in, instead.

"Alright," she sighed out. "Have it your way, then." And she stepped forward, somewhat hesitantly because she wasn't sure of herself. But Wolfwood opened his arms and she stepped into them, grasping his coat with her hands and pressing her cheek into the damp fabric. The lingering smell of cigarettes suddenly seemed to comfort her.

"I'll see you around suppertime, then," she told him quietly, and pulled back.

Wolfwood only grinned, and moments later Milly had descended upon her.

"Oh, sempai!" she cried, lifting the smaller woman boldly into the hair and squeezing her for all she was worth. For once, Meryl held onto her partner with equal enthusiasm, squeezing her eyes shut to fend off the tears that sprung upon her quite suddenly.

"I've made Mr Vash promise to take care of you and himself, now you have to do the same," the taller woman choked out.

Meryl swallowed thickly. "I promise, Milly."

"Good," was the reply, and Meryl was returned to her feet.

She stepped back and was aware that both Nicholas and Vash were watching her closely. She swallowed again, clearing her throat.

"Should we get going?" she directed the question to Vash.

He regarded her a moment, his aqua eyes still somewhat hazy, before he nodded quickly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess we should."

Above them, dawn was in full swing and they were guaranteed that any purebloods in the castle were now deep within a slumber that they wouldn't awaken from until dusk.

None of them seemed to want to move for a long moment. Finally, it was Vash who moved, turning without a word, catching Meryl's gaze; he stepped into the darkness of the tunnel and disappeared. Then Meryl moved, drawn away by some invisible force, casting a somewhat fearful gaze upon both her remaining friends, before turning and walking into the side of the cliff.

Her eyes adjusted quickly, and she caught sight of Vash just a few feet ahead waiting for her. It was the strangest thing, but Meryl reached out almost blindly towards him and he took her hand quickly in his. The action was completed without a word, almost without acknowledgement. But warmth seemed to spread from their clasped hands, up Meryl's arm and into her body.

They made their way up the tunnel in silence, save for their footsteps. The darkness was oppressive, and soon Meryl could see nothing. She was allowing Vash to lead her blindly into the depths of castle Purebrood and didn't mind in the least. She felt numb and trapped in a false state of security. The darkness could not harm her if Vash was there. In fact, without Vash's contact Meryl was sure she would have turned back ages ago.

Vash halted suddenly, shushing the question on her lips before it passed through them. He slipped his hand from hers, and Meryl was left alone to grapple with the darkness pressing in around her. There was shuffling, but the pounding of Meryl's heart nearly eclipsed the sound.

Suddenly, however, light burst forth in the darkness and she was nearly blinded. Meryl flinched away from the light, nearly stumbling backwards if not for Vash's steadying hand on her shoulder. Contact was restored, and the blinding light turned out to be a very dusty and ancient looking torch.

Meryl let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

Vash let out a sort laugh. "I feel a little safer talking now that I can see what's around me," he informed her, too cheerfully.

Meryl arched a brow in disbelief. "Well at least that's one of us."

Smiling, he took her hand again and started down the tunnel. It turned out to be a well-crafted corridor of unknown age, but by the amount of dust that their boots seemed to be stirring up, Meryl could guess that it was much, much older than her.

"This tunnel only goes up for a ways before linking into the lowest part of the castle," Vash told her.

Meryl was amazed. "You're telling me that we're going up?" It seemed as though they had been walking parallel to the ground below the cliff.

"Yeah, but not much. The lowest part of the castle is the dungeons, you know." He paused. "Thankfully, no one really goes down there."

"Why not?"

Vash glanced back at her. "It's infested with rats." He looked forward again before he could see Meryl's disgusted look.

She swallowed thickly, her eyes suddenly darting around her feet. "Where do we go from there?" she asked nervously.

"Up," came the short reply.

Meryl glanced at his back. "You _do _know where Knives keeps this serum, right?" she beseeched, feeling unease crawling up her back.

"Of course!" he called back, and then added more quietly. "I'm sure, anyway…"

"Vash!" she cried out accusingly while attempting to crush his fingers in her grasp.

But he whirled around suddenly, pulling his hand from hers to press his forefinger to her lips.

"Shhhh!" His eyes pleaded with her, and Meryl looked to where he was holding the torch.

It was a large wooden door with a rusted metal doorknob and cobwebs stringing around its corners. Meryl's heart responded to this sudden surprise with a near painful thump. Slowly, Vash moved his hand away and turned towards the door and she felt her whole body tense up. With one shove of his shoulder that was not in the least bit quiet, Vash forced the old door open. The momentum sent it flying into the wall with a bang so resounding that Meryl looked back down the tunnel as it echoed and bounced its way down, sure that someone had heard it.

But the room that was revealed to them was just as dark as the corridor they'd come out of.

Torch in hand, Vash turned and ushered her into the room before closing the door firmly behind them. It was forced back into place with a screech that made her shudder. Then she remembered the rats and looked down to her feet in disgust.

"Hey," Vash said in a hushed whisper to get her attention.

Her head snapped up and she noticed that he had offered her his hand once again. She took it as her eyes took in the room they had entered.

"This is a dungeon?" she asked, questioning the piles of crates and barrels littering the space, stacked up sometimes to the ceiling, which she noticed was quite low.

"No," Vash tugged her forward. "We're headed towards the dungeon. This is just a storage room."

"I guess you were right about them not knowing about the tunnel," Meryl remarked.

Ignoring her words, Vash went on. "Stay behind me and try not to make any noise. Any purebloods may be sleeping but half-bloods will be all over this place."

Meryl wanted to inform him that she was well aware of this fact, but decided not to make a scene. Instead, she nodded – and action that went unnoticed by Vash.

--

Back at the camp the sun had risen – if you could call it that. The small clearing that the trees provided revealed a dark and cloudy sky above them.

It would be another day of rain.

Milly was trying to keep herself busy by brushing down the horses – and donkey – but was failing miserably because her thoughts kept going to Meryl and Vash and she would halt her actions. The horse would then nudge her back into action, and she would apologize…and the cycle continued.

Sitting on a dry patch under a tree, Wolfwood was doing his best to chain-smoke himself to death, continually puffing until the whole clearing seemed to be blanketed in a haze of cigarette smoke.

Finally, however, when the horse got too fed up with Milly's inattention and walked away – and Milly threw her hands up in exasperation as if it was all the horse's fault - and when Wolfwood himself was beginning to feel sick from the smoke hovering around him – the perpetual silence was broken.

"Milly," he said suddenly, as she actually threw down the brush in frustration.

The tall woman regarded him with such a look of defeat in her eyes that he felt his heart clench.

"I need to tell you something," he said, stubbing out his last cigarette in the damp earth and getting up.

Milly ran her hands through her hair in frustration. "Yes?" she asked, ever polite.

"Follow me," he beckoned, holding his hand out to her.

Wordlessly, thought clearly confused, Milly took the proffered hand and immediately found a sense of calm wash over her.

"I need to show you, as well, for it to make sense," he told her. "We need to go back to the tunnel."

Milly's brow furrowed. "What's there?"

Wolfwood smiled crookedly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Our part in this twisted little play."

Mystified, Milly allowed the priest to lead her away from the camp and through the woods. They hung back at the edge of the woods, in view of the entrance to the tunnel. There, Wolfwood turned to Milly, and in a surprising move, grasped both her hands in his.

"I'm going to tell you something you're not going to like, but it's something I can't change," he began slowly.

Immediately, Milly began feeling sick. "What is it?" she asked, almost miserably, immediately dreading the answer.

Wolfwood seemed to gather himself together and stood a bit straighter. "Last night, after you and Meryl were asleep, Vash woke me…" he paused. "There was something on his mind that was clearly bothering him. He told me…that if he and Meryl aren't out of that castle by sundown, they can be presumed dead and drastic measures can be taken."

As soon as those words passed his lips, Milly attempted to pull her hands away. Wolfwood held them tight.

"What drastic measures?" she demanded, blue eyes wide with fear and confusion.

Wolfwood didn't answer right away, but gently tugged Milly from their cover and into the shadow of the sheer rock face. He led her right up to the tunnel entrance, and beckoned her inside.

"Where are we going?" Milly asked, her voice somewhat hushed as they plunged into the darkness.

She felt him stop, and then an odd scraping noise. The next moment, something was pushed into her hands. It felt like a long stick, and she could feel the clinging dust beneath her fingertips.

"What—"

The sudden strike of a match and subsequent flicker of light silenced Milly. She saw what was in her hands – it was a dusty old torch.

Wolfwood took it from her and carefully lit it. They watched as the small flame ate away at it, growing in size until the tunnel was illuminated several feet each way.

"He led me in here," he continued finally. "Lit a torch…led me up this tunnel a ways…" He held his hand out to Milly once more.

She took it after a moment's hesitation, the flicker of fire in her eyes only serving to make her look more uncertain.

"The same thoughts that are going through your head right now were going through mine," Wolfwood told her, "I wondered what was going on in his mind that would make him lead me here…"

He seemed to have found his destination; an old door along the side of the tunnel, so cracked and covered with cobwebs as the rest of the tunnel that one could have mistaken it for stonework. He turned to Milly and handed her the torch.

"Then, we came upon this door." Wolfwood took hold of the rusted old doorknob and instead of turning it, tried to pull the door open. "Vash explained that right now, we are directly below the main hall in the castle…" The door gave way with a grinding screech, and they were showered with a wave of dust.

Turning back to Milly, Wolfwood took the torch again and stepped through the doorway. Milly followed hesitantly, her heart suddenly racing. What could possibly be inside this room that was so important?

It was a fairly large chamber, she could tell from the meagre light provided, but it looked smaller due to the barrels upon barrels stacked high up to the ceiling. They should have looked innocent, but for some reason Milly's stomach churned with unease. Maybe it was the somewhat familiar smell that seemed to permeate the entire room.

"What is it?" she questioned, but wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

Wolfwood gave a chuckle that was completely devoid of humour. "Let's just say you wouldn't want to drop this torch in this room…"

Milly whirled on him, her eyes wide. "Mr. Priest! Don't tell me that—that--!" Milly cried, but her tongue suddenly didn't want to work.

Wolfwood cast her a sideways glance and then sighed. He regarded the room with a defeated look. "Each one of these barrels it packed to the brim with gunpowder. Vash explained that no one has visited this room in years…so it simply ceased to exist. No one knows about it except for us." He paused, almost seemed to gather his composure before facing Milly. "This is our role, Milly. If Vash and Meryl aren't out of the castle by nightfall, we light a trail of gunpowder and blow this castle to kingdom come."

Stunned, Milly took a step back; her feet bumped into a barrel behind her. Defeated, Milly sat down with a cry, tears already leaking from her tightly closed eyes.

Carefully, Wolfwood took a seat beside her and almost hesitantly wrapped an arm around Milly's shoulders.

--

Meryl was convinced that she could hear dripping, but the corridors of the castle remained devoid of water. Devoid of life. They were dank and dark; the only warmth and comfort she could gather was from the torch and the touch of the half-blood leading her into the den of wolves. He was leading them both.

Meryl couldn't see his face. They hadn't spoken in a while. To her, it seemed they were wandering in a never-ending maze, ascending a set of stairs and hoping to be faced with something different but only find another corridor leading them into darkness. There were no windows. Meryl was beginning to feel claustrophobic, and an ache that had more or less eluded her most of the morning had returned as the minutes passed.

They stopped suddenly, Vash standing rigidly in front of her. Meryl bit her lip and slowly crept forward until she was by his side.

Two choices lay before them. Go right and venture down another dark corridor, or go left and climb a winding staircase that was, oddly enough, lit with several torches. It was the first sign of inhabitants in the castle and it send a chill through Meryl. Vash deposited his torch in an empty mount on the wall.

"Which way?" she asked quietly.

Slowly held up a finger. "Wait a second…"

"What is it?" Meryl asked suddenly alert. She looked over to Vash, who had a thoughtful express on his face.

"It's been a while since I've been here, so I'm just trying to remember where we are…" he explained.

Meryl heaved a sigh and crossed her arms, yet refrained from saying anything nasty.

After a moment Vash seemed to nod to himself and then pointed left. "Up the staircase."

"And where does that lead?" Meryl sniped.

Vash flashed her a smile, unaffected by her doubt. "I'll know when we get there." He started towards the stairs, leaving Meryl to catch up.

Sighing, Meryl jogged slightly to keep up. As they ascended, she was aware of the sudden light – it seemed to guide them – but it did nothing to staunch the sudden chill that had entered her body. She was distinctly aware of the absence of Vash's hand, and she wanted to curse herself for acting like a child. Dependant and needy.

The stairs seemed to go on forever. Meryl glanced back several times, just to make sure nothing was following them, and then had to rush to keep up with Vash because she was afraid of falling behind. It seemed as though this castle seemed to tear down the strengths she had perfected over the years, leaving her nerves in shambles. She was almost convinced it was a living, breathing thing that was feeding off her. She felt weak as a babe.

When they reached the top, Meryl sighed with relief. Two doors lined each side of the corridor, and a window sat at the very end. Grey light poured through the dirty pane of glass, providing some relief for Meryl.

"This way," Vash said to her, already starting towards the window.

Meryl followed, seeing that there was a corridor to the right and one to the left. Yet another decision, but Meryl was drawn to the window. Leaning on the ledge, she peered at the view outside. Amazingly, the ground below seemed miles away – a green and grey stretch of rolling land fading off into the distance where dark clouds seemed to eat up the horizon.

"Meryl!" Vash shouted suddenly.

She was almost too shocked by the sound of her name on his lips to notice the hairs on her neck standing on end. Rigidly, she whirled around, her legs nearly tangling in her cloak.

The sight before her nearly made her stumble. Vash, the colour of a ghost, paler than she'd ever seen him and looking like a feral animal ready to pounce. Or run.

The beast that haunted Meryl's dreams faced them at the top of the stairs from whence they'd just come. Tall, immovable, imposing. Her first instinct was to run, to hide, but she knew that it was impossible. She couldn't escape.

_Trapped._

Knives' icy eyes moved over his brother's stiff form before settling on her.

Meryl gasped, stumbling back into the window, feeling as though she'd just been stabbed. Fiery pain gripped her body and nearly rendered her immobile. The pulse in her neck throbbed, and she clapped a hand to her neck and collapsed, her legs tingling and shaky. But hands pulled her back up, and though her eyes were unfocused she knew it was Vash.

He was breathing hard, as if he'd run a marathon, and she thought she felt a shudder run through his body.

"Knives," he ground out, a greeting from one brother to another.

Several more vampires had come to stand beside and behind Knives. Their dead eyes were flat and flickered with something akin to boredom. Meryl struggled to stand on her own, pulling herself from Vash's arms, not wanting to show any weakness.

She thought she heard Knives chuckle, but her focus was on the vampire accompanying him. She recognized Legato right away, but there was also a woman who wore an eye patch standing just behind them. On Knives' other side stood a dark-haired half-blood with a height that nearly matched Knives', and behind him was a man who looked rather foreign; he had a blade at his side.

What shocked Meryl most, however, was the fact that there was a small child in their midst, standing with his arms crossed and looking quite bored with the whole affair. It was the first time she had seen a vampire child and it caught her somewhere in the chest – a sharp stab of pain that was purely emotional.

Knives tilted his head slightly. "Vash," he said almost pleasantly. "I've been waiting for you."

A cold feeling settled in Meryl's stomach, and she took a step back, nearly touching the wall behind her. Had he known that they were there all along? Had he allowed them to break into his castle? How? _How? _

Knives' eyes snapped to her once more. The sneer on his lips gave away his act of indifference.

"You're bleeding, human," he told her disdainfully, yet she caught a warning in his voice.

Unnerved, Meryl clapped a hand to her neck and felt the sticky blood seeping from her wound. Her brand.

She hadn't even noticed.

"Leave her, Knives," Vash's voice broke the silence, sounding unusually harsh.

His twin's eyes flickered away from Meryl. "Why? Is she not an accomplice of yours? Has she not trespassed in my castle, same as you, dear brother?" He took a slow step forward, and Meryl reached discreetly into the folds of her cloak. "Why should I not punish the spider?"

Meryl's fingers touched cold metal, and she waited a moment. Her hands trembled as she grasped the small derringer. She readied her finger on the trigger. She prayed.

Knives continued, taking another slow step forward, as if approaching a rabbit that might bolt at any sudden movement. "You're far too soft, Vash – something I plan on remedying as soon as I can…"

Her whole body tensing, Meryl whipped her hand from her clock, gun already cocked and loaded, and set her sights on Knives' head. No one had time to react before she pulled the trigger. Two shots, and from the corner of her eyes she saw Vash flinch.

Meryl was shaking like a leaf in a breeze as she regarded Knives. He'd _moved_ – she hadn't seen him move, but he had. And his hand – his closed fist rested just in front of his forehead.

Without any bravado, he opened his hand and two bullets fell to the floor.

_No, no, no…_

Meryl stared in horror at the bullets. _No. _Legato had been impressive, not even flinching when she'd driven a stake into his chest – but Knives…Knives had _dodged_ two bullets. He'd caught them in his hand and let them drop to the floor. She knew they must still be hot after their departure from the barrel of her derringer.

She noticed that his followers were very amused by his actions.

Once glance at Vash told her he was even paler. She told herself that she imagined the tremble that ran through his body.

Knives gave a small chuckle. "Tell me, did you really think you could get in and out of this castle without me knowing?" The question could have been directed at either of them, but both stayed silent.

Knives surveyed his brother with a barely concealed look of disgust. "You're a disgrace, Vash," he spat, plain and simply.

Meryl expected Vash to reply, but nothing was said. She wanted to shout at him to do something – say something! But only because of her own fears. _Weak, _she told herself.

"You'll be joining us soon," Knives spoke again, and took Meryl a moment to realize he was talking to her.

_Joining them, _Meryl thought to herself numbly. Yes, she supposed she would. Soon now, very soon.

Knives glanced back at his followers, a sickening smile on his lips. "And then I'll have the infinite pleasure of driving one of your own stakes through your heart – you've caused me too much trouble already."

Meryl fell back against the wall, feeling sick to her stomach.

Vash finally stepped up. "Don't touch her, Knives." The distance between the two of them was getting smaller, now.

Meryl pondered vaguely what would happen when the two titans finally clashed. She wasn't so sure they would.

"Don't defend her, Vash," Knives retorted. "The spider has earned her death."

Vash stepped forward again, looking like a feral, wild animal faced with death. "I won't let you."

"You won't let me!" Knives repeated, laughing. His face swiftly turned cruel. "You don't have a choice," he snarled, and lifted his hand in a vague gesture that Meryl didn't understand until Vash keeled over suddenly, clutching his stomach with a howl of pain.

"Thank you, Legato," Knives murmured politely as Vash's knees hit the floor.

Meryl's eyes darted to Legato. He stood motionless several feet behind Knives. She hated his apathy.

Meryl wanted to push herself away from the wall and go to him, to defend him in the same way he had her, but she felt feeble and sluggish. She felt as though her energy was being drained from her very bones.

Knives finally came to stand before his kneeling brother. His five followers had advanced wordlessly and as quietly as shadows.

"Where are the other two, Vash?" he asked sternly.

When Vash refused to answer, another gesture to Legato sent Vash to his hands, unable to contain the scream that passes through his lips. Meryl watched, sick, as blood dripped from his open mouth onto the cold stone floor.

"I know there are four of you, Vash! Tell me where the other two are!" Knives shouted, bending over as if it would help Vash hear him better.

Meryl couldn't take it. "We left them behind!" she shouted weakly.

Knives' attention snapped to her. "_Where_?" he growled.

"London," she replied weakly. "Leave Vash alone."

A genuine smile touched his lips, and he looked almost pleased. Then, to Meryl's horror, Knives aimed a powerful kick to his brother's head that sent him sprawling on his back. He was still, and Meryl was too shocked to move.

Knives' voice seemed to echo strangely in her head.

"She's lying."

Meryl thought that perhaps someone had snuck up on her because pain blossomed in her head quite suddenly. Fire in her veins. Ice in her bones. It felt like a thousand splinters piercing her body. She twisted and felt herself falling.

She fell into darkness and knew no more.

-

**Author's Notes:** I bet you thought this one wasn't coming back, huh?

I want to thank everyone who has reviewed in the 'almost-two-years' that this story was on hiatus. I know you may think it doesn't make a difference because it took me so long to update, but if no one bothered me to keep going I doubt I would have acted on any urges to finish this story. So thank you and I'm sorry for keeping everyone waiting for so long.

I can't tell you when the next update will be, but I have a good feeling it won't be in two years. ;) As well, I estimate that there are only about four chapters left, so it should only take me about eight more years to finish this fic…

I'm joking!

Sorry.

XD

Anyway, I hope everyone can get back into this story, because I certainly have. I'm looking forward to writing the next chapter because it contains some scenes that I've envisioned since starting this fic. Be excited! Haha.

As well, I hope to go over the whole story and edit each chapter – fix spelling errors, improve my writing and such. I feel I've evolved a bit writing-wise since I started this story, so I want everything to be up to par.

So, that's the news.

Oh, and you can check out my livejournal cayennepeppers. for information regarding the updating of my stories. I posted a sneak peek of this chapter there a while ago, and I may offer more for my next chapters. ;)

It feels good to be back.

I hope everyone is still interested.

If you are, leave me a review!

--**Cayenne Pepper Powder**


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